Gothamland
by Ahray
Summary: BIG FINISH! An assasination so terrible that only the combined casts of the 50's Superman and 60's Batman shows can solve it! Gallery of characters at www dot geocities dot com slash greenhornetsting slash images
1. Chapter 1

**Timeline**

_May 9th, 1948: A young Marilyn Monroe meets cartoonist Bob Kane in California. After doing several sketches of her at the beach, Kane decides to create a comic book character in her image, and snoopy reporter Vicki Vale is born. The character is an instant success and appears prominently in the movie serial 'Batman and Robin' the following year._

_August 23rd, 1953: Marilyn Monroe quarrels on the set of "River_ _of No Return_" _with director Otto Preminger. Directed to do her own stunts in the film, Monroe_ _suffers a broken leg._

_June 16th, 1959: Writer Robert Condon is visiting the home of actor George "Superman" Reeves while working on a book. Police are summoned to a small party at the house during the wee hours of the morning. Upstairs, they find George Reeves lying dead on his bed. Although there are multiple bullet holes in the floor, the case is ruled a suicide. A planned 7th season of 'The Adventures of Superman" is scrapped._

_August 15th, 1962: Three months after singing "Happy Birthday" to John F. Kennedy at Madison_ _Square_ _Garden, Marilyn Monroe is discovered dead, face-down on her bed. Although there are problems in how her overdose could have been self-administered, the case is ruled a suicide. The film she was working on, 'Something's Got to Give", is scrapped._

_November 9th, 1966: Otto Preminger takes over the role of Mister Freeze, aka Dr. Shivel, in the _Batman _television series (stepping in for the late George Sanders). Several weeks later, Preminger's old flame, Gypsy Rose Lee, appears on the show._

_May 18th, 1979: The film _Winter Kills _hits the big screen. Based on a book written by Richard Condon (brother of Robert), the film is a thinly veiled examination of those responsible for the JFK assassination. The film is shelved within days of its premiere and its producer is found murdered in his bed._

_You are free to express the opinion that these are all unrelated, coincidental events. But we both know…they **aren't.**_

(Bat Spin)

_Scene: A dark interrogation room at Police Headquarters_

Batman: Have a seat, reprobate! (_hurls_ _Mr. Freeze into a chair_)

Harvey Dent: Now, you're going to sing for us, Mr. Freeze…starting now.

Mr. Freeze: What about my civil rights?

Commissioner Gordon: Look, our guest here is a constitutional expert. Want your rights, do you? Well, here's a right…

(_slaps_ _Freeze in the face_)

and here's a left!

(_slaps_ _him again; pauses as his secretary enters_)

Bonnie: Commissioner, your sexpot daughter is on line one. She wants to borrow money for cigars.

Commissioner Gordon: Now now! Can't you see I'm beating a suspect?

(_Gordon draws his arm back again, but Freeze blocks the swinging wrist and seizes it_)

Freeze: You can break every bone in my body…but you'll never break my spirit! I've survived years of debilitating misery...and now, the love of my life is depending on me!

Announcer: They froze his body…but they couldn't freeze his heart! In his big screen debut, Otold Shivel is…Mr. Freeze…in the film you dare not miss…_CHILLED SCIENTIST!"_

James Gordon sat in his daughter Barbara's living room, transfixed by what was transpiring on the television screen.

As the ad came to a close, a final title flashed across the screen. "Opens June 19th. A Wormer Bros. release."

The commissioner exchanged an incredulous look with his daughter.

"Of all the…!" he sputtered. "Shivel can't be serious! Does he think the public will buy tickets to this nonsense?"

"You have to admit, Daddy, Dr. Shivel has made quite a name for himself since hanging up his helmet as Mr. Freeze. He's gone from film special effects, to movie producing. Now he's even acting…even if just playing himself. And he's apparently willing to throw some of his artistic integrity away for the chance at revenge."

" …by way of character assassination! And only last week I was congratulating Warden Chrichton on the tremendous progress Shivel has shown since he was cured of his temperature disorder."

"Do you recall any situation that was even close to the scene in that commercial?" Barbara asked.

"None! Batman always obtained iron-clad evidence against him, so there was never any need to question the frosty hooligan. Harvey Dent wasn't even the District Attorney at the time!"

"You could take your case to the public, but even if you managed to make yourself heard over the advertising blitz the movie studio is bankrolling, you may just provide the film with even more publicity."

"Oh, the entire premise is preposterous!" The commissioner said, closing his eyes. "The actor playing me doesn't resemble me; you've never smoked cigars! Why, the thought of any reasonable person swallowing this is beyond belief!"

"Well, sometimes the movie-going public is just in the mood for anything that challenges the status quo. Oh, look," Barbara said, changing the subject as well as the channel. "That press conference is just starting."

A voice-over accompanied a wide camera shot of politicians on a stage: "Live from Metropolis, this is Barry Brown, your on-the-spot reporter, bringing you full coverage of today's event. This is the first press conference Governor Jefferson Fitzgerald Klintody has held in three months, and it comes amidst mounting criticism."

Flashbulbs went off as the Governor approached the microphone. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. I'm sure we're all aware of charges by some that I am out of touch with the people who elected me. To put that to rest, I'll be undertaking a five-stop tour of our state over the next week. I look forward to this opportunity to touch base with my constituents on a more personal level. I see you have questions? Ms. Lane?"

The picture switched to a close-up of a woman in the press gallery. Although it had been over a year since she had last teamed up with Lois Lane, Barbara noted that her reporter friend with the Daily Planet appeared to be staying in shape.

"Governor, you made a top priority of curtailing mob activity when you were elected," said Lois. "But today, mob bosses like Lou Cranek remain free. With police officials in the cities receiving a helping hand from costumed crimefighters, underworld figures have relocated to rural sections of the state. Even when they're taken into custody, their incarceration lasts no more than an afternoon. Have you given up for the time being on prosecuting these criminal figures?"

Miles away from Barbara Gordon's apartment, two bulky figures seated in front of a television set howled in laughter. Lou Cranek himself, accompanied by his aide, Curley, chuckled with glee as the camera switched back to the governor's unamused expression.

"Lookit! He's speechless!"

"Yeah, what's the matter, Jefferson?," Cranek said. "You have a change of heart about coming to get me?"

"Absolutely not, Ms. Lane," the Governor said. "You'll notice that I am joined on stage this afternoon by the district attorneys of no less than five different municipalities, and we are all in agreement that taking down the head of organized crime remains job number one! Each of these men is committed to seeing lawbreakers, such as the individual you mentioned, behind bars."

Governor Klintody pointed towards another upraised hand in the press gallery.

"Vicki Vale, Picture Magazine", announced a fashionably attired woman who brandished a tape recorder in one hand, a camera in the other. "I'd like to follow up on your statement with a question for Mr. Dent."

"Certainly." The Governor beckoned for Harvey Dent to step forward to the microphone.

"It came to light earlier this year, Mr. Dent, that you were briefly replaced as Gotham's District Attorney by the man on your left, Billy D. Kilrassian." Vicki gestured at a handsome, mustached African American standing beside Dent. The man dipped his head sheepishly.

Vale continued. "An article by Clark Kent claimed that Governor Klintody didn't feel someone with your prominent facial disfiguration was appropriate for such a high-profile position, and suggested you be replaced. The city went so far as to issue a press release announcing the change, and then hastily withdrew it when Kilrassian turned the job down to accept a post in Metropolis. Do you feel that your effectiveness has been hampered by the publication of that news?"

This question was also met with amusement by the two gangsters viewing the broadcast.

"Now, you can tell Harvey to his face he's a stumbling boob, but it isn't polite to remind him that he's ugly!" Cranek cackled.

Curley scratched his head. "Uhh, say, the guy who wrote the article….ain't Clark Kent the reporter who tracked your hideout down by plane right before you got sent to the joint?"

Cranek, his mood suddenly darkening, invited his aide to "watch the show and shut your stupid mouth."

District Attorney Dent composed himself for a moment before answering. "Ms. Vale, I had the pleasure of listening to the Governor talk at length this afternoon on his commitment to making our streets safe. I can tell you that we see eye to eye on every major issue relating to crime; whether that's stemming the tide of unsavory elements arriving from war-torn Nimpah, or finding a cure for the homicidal lunatics filling Arkham Asylum, Governor Klintody and I are united in our commitment to law and order"

"Then you're denying he tried to have you replaced?" Vicki asked.

"I'm not going to comment on inner personnel moves, especially ones that never occurred. I don't think there's any doubt in Gotham City who runs the District Attorney's office."

"What a load," Cranek said. "Just last month, Dent's office completely blew the Penguin prosecution. Batgirl provides him with an airtight case and he still screws it up."

Television reporter Barry Brown didn't wait to be called on.

"Governor, opinion polls indicate your latest round of budget cuts have weakened your support considerably. The Monarch party makes no secret of planning a recall effort against you. The names rumored to be contemplating a run against you range from former Governor Stonefellow to pop icons like movie mogul Otold Shivel. Is this whirlwind tour just an attempt to try to shore up your sagging approval ratings?"

Klintody scowled. "No, really, people, it's okay to start asking the tough questions any time you want. Anyone who doubts my standing in the Governor's Mansion should try asking one of my opponents next time they need the pothole in front of their driveway filled."

"Well, I think we should give him a break," Vicki Vale called out to her colleagues. "Who's with me?"

Surprised at a call for collegiality during the middle of a press conference, Lois considered whether to vocally support Vicki. She stood up just as Vale opened her mouth again.

"Forrrrrrrr, he's a jolly good fellow! For he's a jolly good fehhh-low!"

Lois slapped her hand to her head and promptly sat back down, scolding herself for having almost publicly associated herself with this fruitcake. She saw Barry Brown shaking his head in amazement at Vicki's song.

Governor Klintody laughed as Vale concluded the serenade. "Thank you! That's the first good thing that's ever happened to me at a press conference. Don't feel bad if this short-lived pleasantness ruined your chance to humiliate me, people – I'll be doing this again in Gotham City on Saturday. Thank you all for coming."

"So Klintody's taking his traveling sideshow to Gotham, eh?" Cranek said, pursing his lips. "Interesting."


	2. Chapter 2

Gorgeous weather greeted Gotham City the following morning. The birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and the smell of flowers in bloom hung in the air. At the Gotham City Library, Barbara went about her librarian duties with her characteristic poise and efficiency. She held the door open for two exiting patrons.

"Oh, Becky is going to enjoy this book so much! Thank you locating it, Miss Gordon."

"My pleasure. You and your grandmother visit us again soon, Becky."

The little girl beamed and waved. "We will. Bye-bye."

Barbara smiled as she watched the elderly lady depart with her enthusiastic charge. Barbara's co-worker walked up and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Has the 10:45 clerical applicant shown up yet?"

Gordon glanced at her watch and frowned. "No, Myrtle, and they're long overdue by now. I guess we'll have to pick from the pair we've interviewed already."

The two women looked around to see if the missing job applicant might be arriving late, but there was no one in sight. They had turned to head back inside when a low scraping sound caught their attention. A few yards from their feet, a manhole cover was moving aside. Through the new opening, a beaklike nose came into view, followed by a monocled pair of eyes.

"The Penguin!" gasped Myrtle.

As her old adversary rose from the manhole, Barbara saw that this was not the Penguin she was accustomed to. At the moment, he was covered in dirt and smelled horrible. She was surprised that his top hat was missing, since she couldn't recall him going without it before. And instead of wearing his usual tuxedo, he was clad in a union suit stained with sweat.

"Faw! Not a trace…searched high and low," he muttered to himself.

"What do you want here, Penguin?"

"Darkest despair, depart my doorstep!" The Penguin closed his eyes and seized his heart.

Barbara shook him by the arm. She waved away the resulting dust cloud. "What are you talking about?"

The Penguin took a moment to catch his breath and compose himself. "I am a free man, just pronounced innocent by a jury of my peers. Yet in what should be my happiest hour, I find cruel fate has plucked me up and dropped me into the abyss. Upon my release, I made my way to my old places of refuge…and one by one…found them picked clean! My tuxedos, my umbrellas, my contact information, my _funds_…all stolen!" He walked inside the library as he spoke, with Barbara and Myrtle following reluctantly.

"Did you come to check out a book? Or consult our lost and found section?" Myrtle asked.

"I believe I have an appointment for …10:45," he said, brushing dirt from his grimy outfit. "I understand you have a vacancy at this branch"

Barbara looked at the clipboard in Myrtle's hands, and sure enough, the missing job applicant was listed as "O. Cobblepot".

"_You_ want a job at the library?" Myrtle asked.

"Indeed. I am honest and hungry, conditions that I have long feared went hand-in-hand."

Barbara studied the short, odd man, and shook her head. "Oh, no, not this time. You've 'reformed' a few too many times in the past for me to swallow this story."

The Penguin gave a sad smile. "My dear Miss Gordon, the Penguin has, as of this hour, been laid to rest – his existence claimed by the claws of calamity. Can you imagine a Penguin without his umbrellas? The simply-attired person before you is not – could not – be the Penguin. The object of your ill-placed suspicions is only humble Oswald Cobblepot. If you wish to assist me in my profound life adjustment, then employ me. If not, then let us not waste each other's time further."

Barbara cocked her head to one side. "Even allowing for your rehabilitation, Penguin…"

"My birth name, if you please."

"…Oswald, why would you want this low-paying administrative job?"

"This position was not my first choice, nor close to it. However, after numerous rejections, I am compelled to follow any lead short of ditch digging. I ask you, what more natural habitat for a well-read scholar than the library?"

Barbara rubbed her chin. "Wellll, perhaps you could be of use on this genealogical research project. But if you're selected, you'll be expected to work, not grandstand."

"Barbara, a word with you, please," Myrtle said.

The two librarians walked several yards away from their unkempt applicant.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing, dear?" Myrtle whispered. "The Penguin is a horribly dangerous criminal."

"He certainly _was_," Barbara concurred. "I'm not saying we shouldn't keep a close eye on him – but if he's trying to turn his back on a life of crime, I wouldn't want to be responsible for ruining his attempt at earning an honest living."."

"But you're gambling with the safety of our patrons. What if he suddenly pulls an umbrella and two brutes in black turtlenecks out of thin air?"

"I understand the concern, but if Gotham's number two criminal is contemplating hanging up his top hat…how can we afford to pass up that opportunity?"

"I suppose we _are_ fortunate that Batgirl decided to give Mr. Freeze a second chance some years back. Hopefully, this case will turn out as happily."

"Um, yes, let's hope so," Barbara said, trying not to frown. She resolved that Batgirl would descend with great fury upon Cobblepot at his first mention of a movie deal. "At any rate, the project he'll be working on is innocuous enough. Digging through the archives to compile a list of Gotham's first born sons – that should keep him out of trouble."

Not accustomed to asking favors of others, Cobblepot waited nearby, shifting from foot to foot. He started to forgetfully reach for a lighter in his pocket-less clothing when the librarians emerged from their huddle.

"Congratulations, Mr. Cobblepot. We've decided to hire you," Barbara said. "But I have to warn you, we won't stand for any shenanigans or outbursts. And at the first sign of an umbrella on the premises, you'll be out on the street."

"And congratulations to you, Miss Gordon," he beamed as he shook her hand. "You have chosen well."

Two days later, Barbara received a call from Lois Lane, whose plane had just landed at Gotham Airport. Barbara was glad to hear that her friend had been assigned to cover the Governor's whirlwind tour. Lois accepted the librarian's offer to take her out to lunch.

Aware of the Lane's growing reputation as an urban sophisticate, Barbara chose the chic What a Way to Go-Go discotheque as their destination. The club was easy to spot from the road; twin flaming torches flanked the carpeted entranceway.

"I hope this isn't a dull assignment for you," said Barbara as they were waiting for their order to arrive. "I should think listening to the same political speech every day could get old."

"Oh, with all the political sniping going on, Governor Klintody is hot news these days. Besides, the last time I came here for a 'minor' story, I wound up interviewing the President."

"Did you come alone this time? I was hoping to meet this responsible, mild-mannered partner of yours."

"Clark was supposed to come along with me and Jimmy, but he's been having one problem after another. I wouldn't blame him if he didn't make the trip at all."

"What sort of problems?"

"Well, some years ago, this cute little dog showed up lost at the Daily Planet offices. He was named Corky and he acted like Clark was the most special guy in the world. Although he didn't keep the doggy, Clark agreed last week to look after Corky while his owner was on vacation. But when he returned home from work on Monday, the dog was gone."

"Not for good, I hope."

"Clark acted confident that he could find him, but Corky still hadn't turned up as of yesterday. By then, Clark was terribly guilt-ridden."

"I don't blame him."

Lois noted that the weekend started early at the What A Way to Go-Go. The lunch hour featured pounding dance music and stylishly-attired girls swinging to the music from a second-story balcony. Lois did a double take upon spotting one of the dancers. Slightly older than the teenagers on either side, the blonde was still strikingly attractive and vaguely familiar. Lois glanced at her periodically as she continued her story.

"And then Friday, Clark was supposed to pick us up at the Daily Planet for the trip to Gotham, but ran into trouble on the drive over. He was about two blocks from the building, when he had to swerve to avoid a pedestrian and than crashed straight into a wall!"

"Oh, no!"

"At the rate he was going, I thought he was a goner. But when we reached the scene, he was just calmly climbing out of the wreckage. Jimmy asked how he could get through the collision without a scratch, but before he could answer, Clark fainted. At least that was somehow reassuring – it was classic Clark Kent fortitude."

"Why do you think he crashed?"

"As it turns out, there was almost no fluid left in his brakes. He was lucky he'd been able to drive a mile in that thing without getting into a wreck. Clark was acting like someone rigged his brakes, but knowing Clark, it's a good bet he just neglected to ever get the brakes checked."

"You never know. You two made a good number of deadly enemies over the years with your coverage of organized crime."

"I can take care of myself. Clark, I worry about sometimes."

Lois still couldn't place where she knew the dancer from, but she knew that somewhere in her past she had associated that face with the color red and a feeling of danger. Her concentration was broken when she spotted someone of even greater interest.

"Barbara, do you see that big fellow?" she whispered, pointing discretely.

Barbara glanced at a rough-looking, bald man who was heading for the exit.

"That's Lou Cranek's lieutenant, Curley. He's been in and out of prison half a dozen times in Metropolis. Wonder what he's doing here?"

Before Barbara could answer, Lois was out of her seat and after the bulky figure. Trying to catch up with her friend, Barbara scrounged through her purse for her parking ticket. She extracted it just as they were reaching the front door and promptly looked for a valet to hand it off to.

Unfortunately, they were already too late. A grim-faced doorman was just holding a car door open as Curley settled behind the wheel. Before a valet appeared to help them, Cranek's henchman was driving off down the alley.

Lois pulled out a small notebook and jotted down the car's license plate number.

"Guess we'll have to settle for this," she said, flipping the notebook shut.


	3. Chapter 3

Barbara was returning to work when she spied her new employee, Cobblepot, in front of the library. He paced back and forth, attempting to distribute leaflets to passers-by. Barbara motioned Lois to duck behind a corner. There, the two quietly observed the ex- Penguin's activity.

"Some literature, ma'am?" Cobblepot flashed a toothy grin at a woman passing by.

The woman, little Becky's grandmother, stopped to accept a leaflet.

"'No Harm, No Foul. Let's Play Ball With Nimpah'…" she read aloud. Mystified, she read it again silently. "I have no idea what that means."

"Simply that we, as a member of the world community, must work to maintain our close ties with our friends in the East. Our Governor has made some, shall we say, rash comments about our Nimpan colleagues' state of affairs. He should respect other countries' freedom to determine their political system. I ask you, isn't that what being a good neighbor demands?"

Two dark-complected individuals sauntered up to either side of Cobblepot.. One of them bore a facial scar that could be described as prominent, to put it mildly.

"Good day, sir. Good day," Cobblepot nodded at the pair. "Care for some reading material?" He beamed winningly.

"Eladinga, do you see what this says?" said the first man.

Eladinga accepted a leaflet and quickly glanced over it. His eyes turned cold and he directed his steely gaze at Cobblepot.

"This looks like garbage to me. What does it look like to you, Hermindra?"

Hermindra crumpled up his leaflet and tossed it away. "It looks like someone foolishly trying to stir up trouble."

"You volunteered to supervise the Penguin?!" Lois whispered to her friend. "You won't have to worry about getting bored at work for a while." Receiving no reply, she looked around to discover Barbara was nowhere in sight.

The two men closed in on Cobblepot.

"What do you louts think you're doing?" the former Penguin barked.

"We have watched our brothers and sisters cut down in cold blood by the Nimpah's current regime. What do you know of our country?" Hermindra shouted.

Several passer-bys stopped to watch the developing altercation.

"You need some help in distributing your literature, friend?" Eladinga hissed at the portly ex-con.

"Waauggh!" Cobblepot grabbed an elongated package from behind him. "On your way, rabble!"

Eladinga seized him and tried to jerk him off his feet. He discovered that Cobblepot weighed too much to be tossed around quite so easily, and settled on yanking the leaflets from the short man's grasp. Cobblepot swung his long package up and brought it down on top of the man's hat.

** KLOMP! **

Eladinga responded by ramming Cobblepot back into the wall and shaking him vigorously. Since the fracas was going on only a few feet from the front door, it was effectively barring entry or exit from the library. A small group of library patrons were now hanging back, waiting for the disagreement to blow over.

Batgirl bounded onto the scene to see Cobblepot flailing in the taller man's grasp.

"Unhand me or I'll have you both hanging lifelessly from lampposts!" he squawked.

"That's enough." The two men from Nimpah turned, surprised to find Batgirl standing behind them. Eladinga obediently released Cobblepot and backed away.

"Now what's the problem here?" Batgirl asked.

"This man is distributing hateful literature that he knows will offended others," Hermindra said.

"It appears that some people have trouble divining the meaning of freedom of the press," Cobblepot said, giving Hermindra a poke in the ribs with his package.

"Enough!" said Batgirl.

The ex-Penguin turned to the group of onlookers and began chanting.

"Let's play ball with Nim-pah! Let's play ball with Nim-pah!".

He clapped his hands in an exaggerated manner, hoping the crowd would join in. The only onlooker who did was young Becky, who was wearing a catcher's mitt and apparently game for playing ball with anyone.

"Come along, Becky," her grandmother said, taking her by the hand and marching her away from the library.

"You three can go about your business or you'll wish you had," Batgirl said to the men, hands on her hips.

Without a word, Eladinga threw the handful of leaflets in the air and turned away from Cobblepot. Lois Lane heard a rapid clicking. Glancing around, she saw that the source of the sound was Vicki Vale. Vale's camera snapped away, capturing the scene of Cobblepot trying to catch the multitude of leaflets floating to the ground.

Lois scolded herself for not having brought junior photographer Jimmy Olson along with them to lunch, but was determined not to let herself be outdone by a rival journalist. Since Batgirl had the Penguin cornered, she headed for the foreign duo.

"That was quite a spat," she said. "Are you affiliated with some political organization?"

"It is not I you should write about, dear lady," Eladinga replied. "You should expose this shameful thing the city is funding. The Penguin walks free through a legal loophole, and now he is allowed to hold any demonstration he wants at the city library.

"You're pretty brave to stand up to the Penguin. Every paper in town will be happy to print whatever statement he makes. Maybe I can help tell your side of the story."

"I would not waste time trying to compete with his overblown reputation. But if you can arrange a debate between me and this pig, the world will see the truth."

"Come," Hermindra said. He pulled his compatriot away before Lois could ask another question. She turned to catch the end of Batgirl's exchange with Cobblepot.

"What's in that package?" Batgirl asked. "It's shaped like an umbrella."

"Curtain rods," said Oswald. "My new abode is sadly lacking in some necessities."

"I hear you're working at the library now," she said. "That's encouraging news. It would be too bad if you ruined it with another stunt like this."

"The terms of my employment clearly allow me to pursue lawful political activism during my free time, such as my lunch hour. Now, much as I'd love to stand here begging your forgiveness, I'm afraid my services are needed inside. Adieu."

The ex-Penguin bowed and waddled off into the library. Batgirl raced off to change back into Barbara Gordon before her co-worker had a chance cause any new trouble inside.

Vicki snapped a picture of Batgirl's exit, then zoomed in on the two departing Nimpans. Their backs were to her, but as Eladinga glanced back at the library, she saw a clearly-visible smirk on his face.

"Odd. He's suddenly in a brighter mood," Vicki muttered. "This smells like a story." She tailed the suspicious pair down the street.

After several minutes, the men came to a stop by a phone booth outside a tobacco shop. Hermindra admired the shop's wares through the window while Eladinga stepped up to the phone and fished in his pockets for some change.

Feeling exposed in the middle of the sidewalk, Vicki moved casually toward the street. Crouching low, the intrepid photojournalist tiptoed down the length of the cars parked in front of the shop. Soon, she was close enough to hear snatches of conversation.

"Don't worry, you're going to get the headlines you wanted."

Vicki took a quick glance up through the window of the Cadillac she was concealed behind. Eladinga was carrying on a conversation in the phone booth, but Hermindra was nowhere in sight.

"No, they didn't suspect anything," Eladinga said. "What's our next move, Kent?"

A large hand grabbed the back of Vicki's jacket and yanked her up. Twisting around, she found herself in Hermindra's grasp.

"Take your hands off me or…"

Herminda's palm clamped over her mouth, cutting her off in mid-sentence, and she felt herself being dragged backwards.

"I have to hang up. We have a problem to deal with," she heard Eladinga say.

She kicked her legs out and lifted them in front of her, forcing Hermindra to hold her entire weight. He was hefting her up to get a firmer grasp when she brought her foot down like an ax on his shin. Vicki used the heel of her other shoe to stomp hard on his toe.

Feeling Hermindra's grip weaken, she planted a hand in his face and shoved him backwards to the ground. Eladinga was already rounding the other side of the Cadillac and reaching for her.

Vicki took two steps forward and dived for a passing tan pickup truck. She grabbed onto the metal-sided bed, but a hand seized hold of her foot. She was momentarily stretched taut between the truck and her assailant, and thought her limbs were going to be pulled from their sockets. She held on to the truck for dear life, though, and felt her foot pop out of her shoe.

She looked back in time to see Eladinga tumbling and rolling to a stop in the middle of the street. She sighed in relief. She noticed with grim amusement that she was gripping the truck bed so tightly that some paint had transferred to her hand. Lying a block behind her in the street, Eladinga glared down at the single shoe he had emerged from his struggle with, then up at the slim receding figure still clutching the side of the pickup.

"'REFORMED' PENGUIN IN POLITICAL FRACAS" screamed the next day's headlines. The story was accompanied by a picture of the Penguin and the Nimpans amidst a downpour of falling leaflets. Vale had decided to withhold any mention of her narrow escape for the time being.

As noon rolled around, two subjects very close to that story were urgently at work. Hermindra was screwing a silencer onto the end of a rifle. He aimed down the sights, then nodded in satisfaction. He glanced over at Eladinga, who was loading his hands with boxes of bullets.

Lois Lane's assignment for the day was to cover an entertainment event: Otto Shivel's presence at the Gotham premiere of his controversial film, _Chilled Scientist_.

Scanning the faces in the audience, Lois spotted many Gothamites reading Vicki Vale's article. Their faces were all hidden behind back-page images of Jimmy Olson extolling the virtues of Kellog's Frosted Flakes. Two periodicals soon lowered to reveal faces she recognized: Bruce Wayne and his ward, Dick Grayson.

"Tough to imagine the Penguin getting into a fight over some ideology that didn't involve money," Dick commented.

"Yes, Dick, as much as we've come to anticipate this bird roosting in nests of money, his rejection of his trademark tuxedo makes his motives difficult to fathom."

"I'll say! What the heck kind of pelt is that he's wearing, anyway? Possum?"

Bruce examined the photo closely. "I believe that's actually a kahukiwi cloak, made from the fur-like feathers of the kiwi."

"Guess he hasn't abandoned the bird theme entirely."

"Gentlemen. You're looking well," Lois called from the aisle.

Bruce waved. "Lois! Good to see you. Did you bring your partners in crime along with you?"

"One of them so far. Jimmy's out getting shots of the Governor's tour, and Clark's supposed to arrive soon. He got roped into some cockamamie stunt where he has to get in the ring with an elderly boxing phenomenon."

"That'd be good old Everett Banister," said Bruce. "He's already got a successful coin vending company, but he's pushing sixty and still going strong."

"You bet! His ring name is 'The Old Otter,'" said Dick.

Lois smiled. "Right now, I can just see now poor Clark desperately trying to do the first push-ups in his life, trying to get in shape! I imagine he'll be pretty sore by the time his plane comes in. He says he won't drive to the airport until the mechanics are positive his car is in perfect running order, but I think he's just terrified of this exhibition."

"Well, he's going to get creamed if he gets in the ring with Everett!" said Dick.

"You don't think they'd let Clark get seriously hurt, do you?"

Dick both folded his arms, happy to dwell on the topic. "Well, I guess that depends on how you define 'serious'. I think a broken jaw is a likely outcome."

The color faded from Lois' cheeks. She felt guilty for making light of Clark's predicament.

"Have to disagree with you there, Dick," said Bruce. "I think Mr. Kent is much more likely to emerge with a broken nose to go with his broken jaw."

"Ms. Lane's question wasn't what Everett is capable of doing," Dick argued. "but what he _will_ do."

"You forget," Bruce said, holding up a cautioning finger, "even if he were moved to concern over Kent's condition, the 'Old Otter's' hand-speed far exceeds his faltering visual abilities. He's likely to break Clark's nose before the broken jaw is apparent. Although I would never wager with a minor, I estimate the chances of Kent escaping with either his jaw or nose intact are quite slim."

Outdone by his mentor's mental prowess, Dick could only smile good-naturedly and admit defeat. "Gosh, I guess you're right after all, Bruce,"

"Uh, nice talking to you. I've got to go." Lois hurried off.

There was activity up on the stage as Dr. Shivel and select members of his cast and crew began to assemble. Taking a seat next to him was a resplendently-attired mature, blonde. She briefly set down her hookah to pour herself a drink.

Dick frowned. "I heard that Dr. Shivel had re-married after his first wife's demise. She looks very familiar. Something to do with Catwoman?"

"You're thinking of the time Catwoman collaborated with Sandman."

"That's right! She was the newscaster who did the story on mattress improprieties!"

"Correct. Barry Brown inherited her old slot on the 'Reeves & West' news program when she decided to devote her time to Otold's career. Her entertainment connections proved invaluable in finding work for him in Hollywood."

"What a ride he's had since then! Just in the last year, he did special effects for _Karm_ _and Jones _and _Man With the Frozen Arm…_both of which received Felix nominations!"

"He's been in Gotham in recent weeks completing filming on his next picture, _Bottle of No Return. _Word has it that he next intends to produce some manner of psychedelic film entitled _Wild!"_

Polite applause greeted Shivel as he stepped up to the microphone. "I would like to thank you all for coming tonight to the premiere of my initial dramatic effort. Before we view it, I would first like to introd…"

As if on cue, boos and hisses cascaded up from one small section of the audience.

"Mister Shivel, just a moment if you please!" Recognizing the voice, Bruce and Dick exchanged looks of consternation.

Aunt Harriet rose from her seat in the inhospitable seating section. "We of the Gotham City Decency League do not approve of this film of yours. Since you've seen fit, sir, to use the city you at one time victimized as the site to celebrate your movie, I hope you have no objection to hearing from its citizenry."

Shivel looked concerned for a moment, but decided that the woman wasn't a complete nutcase. "Of course not, dear lady. What would you like to say to me?"

"First of all, we think the use of the word 'sexpot' is completely uncalled for in the film, and certainly in reference to such a sweet child as Barbara Gordon. How can you defend branding her like that?"

"My dear Ms. Cooper, I can assure I share your love for polite language," he said, attempting to lay on the charm. "However, I haff spent time in the penitentiary, and since zis is a film of my former legal troubles, I am forced to use some language from that milieu."

Dick noticed a movement from his peripheral vision and thought he saw something lurking back in the wings. He squinted for several seconds, trying to make out the mysterious figure, but had no luck. "_Aw, there's no one there_," he concluded.

The protestors' ringleader, Emilio Post, stood. "But how can you in good conscience play yourself…in a movie that you directed and produced…and not involve any of the other actual people portrayed? After all, if no one is qualified to play Mr. Freeze except you, why not recruit Batman to play himself?

Shivel smiled. "In prison I had a chat with the Penguin, who once attempted a film project featuring Batman in an acting capacity. The Penguin assured me that directing Batman is like directing Lassie; you need fourteen takes to get even one right."

Dick leaned forward in his seat, his fists clenched. Bruce motioned for his young ward to calm himself.

"While I have distanced myself from the Penguin on most matters, I still trust his chudgement on this," Shivel chuckled. "Besides, Miss Vicki Vale plays herself in one scene, so zis is not a case of me barring ze true individuals from the set. You will find my movie is an emotional experience that offers a higher truth than my misguided detractors will ever know."

"…'higher truth'?" Aunt Harriet persisted. "Wouldn't it be better to just be historically accurate?"

"Madam, it is difficult for me to understand your group's continued obsession with a mere entertainment project." Shivel smiled and shrugged broadly. "I can only hope zat ze free thinkers in the room – those with no agenda – will give my story a fresh hearing rather than old attitudes."

He welcomed a hand going up on the other side of the room, and quickly gestured to give the floor to Lois Lane.

"Otold, an article last month in the Planet suggests you may have been buttering up members of the state legislature, trying to get them to relax state election requirements. Clark Kent couldn't get you to respond to allegations that you're lobbying to repeal the law that requires the Governor be native-born. Any comment at this time?"

Shivel's new wife slammed her glass down on the filmakers' table. "We're not going to discuss that garbage tonight! We are the last people on earth who need to answer to that back-stabbing hack!"

Shivel maintained his smile as he motioned his spouse to quiet down. "Please excuse my wife. She is quick to defend me, as I would do were it her honor at stake. Obviously, committed as I am to social change, I have friends in ze political world that I chat with from time to time. However, I can assure you that I would never use my popularity to unduly influence our elected officials."

His spouse couldn't resist jumping in again. "Lois, I'm going to tell you about Clark Kent's idea of an investigation. First, he writes a series of stories, building someone up. Then, he spends weeks tearing the same person's reputation to shreds. Finally, when he's exhausted the public's supply of outrage for that poor soul, he moves on to another unsuspecting dupe."

Barry Brown held up a hand. "So, are you interested in running for governor or not, Otold? A lot of your fans think you'd do a good job."

Shivel waved his palms as if surrendering. "Gentlemen, please! I have chust gotten settled in the film industry…unt now you vant me to run for office!"

Just then, the doors at the back of the auditorium banged open with enough noise to cause Dick to twist around in his seat.

Standing at the top of the staircase was the erstwhile Penguin. He was still garbed in his odd, fur-like pelt and he was panting heavily. He trotted halfway down the steps before getting a look at the assemblage onstage, then halted so suddenly that his momentum carried him three more steps further than intended.

"Waaughhh! Wrong movie!" he bellowed in displeasure.

Dick felt Bruce's hand grab his wrist and was out of his chair without further prompting. Executing a pre-arranged ploy, the duo fumbled down the aisle as fast as their fellow patrons would move aside.

"Excuse us…very urgent…irritable bowel syndrome…," the pair mumbled to their dismayed seatmates. They emerged on a carpeted walkway at the edge of the theater and furtively ducked into a curtain-covered alcove

Cobblepot took one step back up the steps, but stopped as the sound of police sirens filtered in from outside. The sounds grew in volume, followed by the sounds of car doors slamming.

"Vexatiousness!" he declared.

Ignoring the stares of the audience and movie crew, Cobblepot waddled urgently down the walkway and up onto the stage. By that time, Dr. Shivel had moved to intercept him.

"Vhere do you think you are going, Cobblepot?" he said, blocking bird man's route to the wings of the theatre.

"One side, Shivel. I am not in a playful mood."

"Nor am I. You vill not take another step until you explain your presence." Cobblepot tried to ignore him, but Shivel latched onto his arm as he tried to move past.

"Wahh!" the ex-Penguin gurgled indignantly, steam practically snorting from his nostrils. "Now, see here, you do-goody popsicle! You are going to promptly unhand me and remove yourself from my path, or you are going to have that snowball head of yours launched into the balcony!"

"Ve shall see about that, my incorrigible friend." The filmmaker seized Cobblepot in a bear hug.

The former Penguin fought back, jabbing the former Mr. Freeze in the face with his prominent nose.

"Obtrusive imbecile!" he snarled. He smacked Shivel's face with his open palm and pushed him away.

"Rotund wretch!" Shivel tackled the fleeing Cobblepot around the legs, and the stout man toppled over.

"Interposing Eskimo-Pie!"

"Recidivist rodentia!"

The two men were rolling around on the floor, angrily flailing at each other. Aunt Harriet covered her ears as venomous expletives echoed from the stage.

The heavy drapes lining the side of the theatre flounced open and Batman and Robin bounded out.

"Stop right there, Penguin!" Batman bellowed as he scaled the steps two at a time at the opposite side of the stage.

Cobblepot's head emerged from the knotted pile on the floor. His eyes were just focusing on his new adversary when a fist filled his view.

** KA-PLOW! **

Shivel's punch was so powerful that it kept going in a straight line after impacting with Oswald's teeth. Cobblepot made a sudden dismount from his foe, and was halfway through a backwards somersault when the hard floor interrupted the graceful maneuver.

The caped crusaders reached him at the same time as a team of policemen who had come charging in from the street. Both parties were surprised at the other's presence, and even more surprised more that their quarry was already unconscious.

"I believe this is the man you seek," Shivel said to Chief O'Hara. He smiled proudly at Batman. "Not bad, yah?"

"All right, drag that mangy bird out of here, boys," ordered Chief O'Hara. "I don't know what role Mr. Freeze has in this – Dr. Shivel, a thousand pardons - but we'll be taking him into custody, just to be on the safe side."

Batman held up his palm. "Easy, Chief. Dr. Shivel just caged your bird for you. He single-handedly grounded the Penguin's plans before they could take wing."

"Oh, how I wish it were true, Batman," O'Hara said glumly.

""The Penguin didn't manage to hide his robbery loot, did he?" asked Robin.

"Worse – much worse, I'm afraid," O'Hara said. "Governor Klintody was shot at as he was being driven to his press conference."

"The Governor? Is he okay?"

"Tis hard to say at the moment, but I believe at least one shot hit him."

Two young officers bent over the unconcious Cobblepot, handcuffing him and patting him down for weapons. An indistinct squawking from his police radio got O'Hara's attention.

"I'm here, Mooney. Go ahead. Any news?"

O'Hara held the police radio tightly against his ear and squinted his eyes as he tried to make out the reply amidst all the static. Finally, he solemnly lowered the radio.

"The Governor is dead."

The dynamic duo's jaws dropped in disbelief. Batman's mind searched for a next move, some way to undo what he had just heard. Feeling a nudge from Robin, Batman glanced up.

Every eye in the theater was staring at them. Everyone instinctively looked to the caped crusaders in times of crisis. Gazing out at the roomful of worried faces, Batman wished he had a solution to offer.


	4. Chapter 4

_Notes: The images on the geocities character gallery will be updated with each chapter._

_The nation of Nimpah was depicted as being ruled by a very wealthy Maharaja in the Batman episode "Joker Trumps An Ace", but that's about all we found out it._

_And now, on with our story……._

"Dead. I can't believe it," Robin said to no one in particular. His shoulders slumped as he hung his head.

Batman was too choked up to try consoling his junior partner. "We'd better go."

He shook the young man to get his attention, and the two headed for the exit. The theater had fallen so quiet that their footsteps echoed throughout the hall.

Outside in the daylight, they were greeted by cries and wailing from the direction of Weekly Square. The dozen or more policemen milling around the area made it clear that the emergency had passed and they were left with the depressing task investigating their failure.

"I hate to say it, Batman," Robin said, "but if we'd decided to accompany the Governor on his drive-through…"

"…rather than attend a news conference…largely to console my ego about my portrayal in Shivel's film," Batman said bitterly, "we could have saved Governor Klintody."

"Heck, I was dying to see Shivel's movie as much as you were. We really let Gotham City down."

"We can never repay Governor Klintody for our blind disregard . . . but we can at least help make it up to this city in some small way by investigating this tragedy and ensuring it never repeats."

Robin pointed. "Look at all the people trying to get into the library. Let's see what's up."

It took several minutes for the Caped Crusaders to work their way past the crowd and the police cordon outside the library. Inside, police investigators were pouring over a crime scene. Librarian Barbara Gordon, the first to return to the premises following the shots, had let her friends Lois and Jimmy in before the area was blocked off.

Cobblepot was also present, handcuffed and in the grasp of two policemen. By now, he had revived and was energetically denying his involvement.

Commissioner Gordon greeted the Dynamic Duo and pointed to several stacks of books of varying heights sitting next to one book shelf. "There, Batman. The Penguin created a stack of books high enough to enable him to climb on top of this book shelf. It's the one spot in the library that allows a clear view of Weekly Square through the window."

District Attorney Harvey Dent nodded. "The library provided him with the perfect cover. He had a legitimate reason for being near the Governor's route and an ideal view."

"Do you have the murder weapon?" Batman asked.

Dent held up an umbrella. "Found it stuck up in the ceiling tiles. It's still warm from being fired."

Barbara stepped forward. "I'm Mister Cobblepot's supervisor. I noticed yesterday he'd brought a package to work. It was the approximate dimensions of an umbrella. I should have known he would have an ulterior motive for seeking employment with us."

Gordon handed Batman a neatly-typed page. "Here's our preliminary findings."

Batman paced in a circle, his hand unconsciously pointing to various spots as he worked through the sequence of events in his mind.

"That umbrella is loaded with ammo exactly matching the rounds fired at the Governor," Gordon announced as the Darknight Detective passed.

Batman came to a stop. "How many shots were fired?"

"Three," said Gordon.

Dent blinked. "Three shots? I heard two."

"I heard three," said Lois.

"I heard four," said Barbara Gordon, shrugging her shoulders apologetically.

"I heard nine," said Jimmy.

Batman suddenly turned to Cobblepot. "Why'd you do it, Penguin?"

The bird man's eyes widened in outrage. "Fap, how many times must I tell you? The Penguin was…an ephemeral force of nature, an amalgation of attributes, a specific assortment of accessories. Without them, the Penguin cannot exist. Can't you see? I have been reduced to the level of common citizenry."

"How terrible for you," remarked an attractive blonde woman.

"Just a minute," O'Hara said, pointing at her. "Who might you be?"

It was the woman Lois had seen the previous day dancing at the disco.

"Shoot, she's okay," exclaimed Jim Olsen. "She helped us out on a story once. You remember Ruby Jones, don't you, Miss Lane?"

Lois smacked her forehead. "Of course. She turned state's evidence against her hypnotist husband. I wish we were meeting again under happier circumstances, Ms. Jones."

"So do I, Lois," said Jones.

Gordon turned to his prisoner. "Well, then, Mister Cobblepot. Can you account for your whereabouts immediately following your release from prison?"

Searching for an answer, Cobblepot's eyes glanced back and forth, then widened as he came to a realization. He unexpectedly swung his fist at the air.

"Hoodwinked!" he exclaimed. "He set me up, the charlatan!"

The Commissioner raised his eyebrows. "Who set you up?"

"Two weeks ago, I met a large, mysterious fellow, who introduced himself as 'Raoul.' He implied that healthy remuneration awaited if I would accompany him and assist in some business affairs, which I did for the next twelve days."

"Business affairs, me eye!" yelled O'Hara. "He was payin' you to reveal your bag o' dorty tricks."

"Poppycock - nothing of the sort."

"What kind of 'affair' was he planning?" Barbara asked.

"I did not ask."

"What services did you perform during those twelve days?" asked Batman

"I accompanied him in his vehicle to various districts of Gotham City and consumed meals with him."

Batman followed up. "How were you paid?"

"With said consumed meals. He also advised me of employment opportunities with Let's Play Ball with Nimpah and the Gotham City Library."

Barbara raised an eyebrow. "You must have had many topics to discuss over twelve days."

"Movies. Also, the weather"

"Holy Gullibility!" Robin barked. "You expect us to believe that?"

Cobblepot sneered. "I can assure you, my expectations of you are quite low."

"Why did you part ways with this Raoul?" asked Harvey Dent.

"He dropped me off at Let's Play Ball headquarters and never returned to pick me up. As you can see, I was carefully maneuvered into my current predicament. Trusting souls such as myself present a tempting target for con men of the underworld."

The police started to haul Cobblepot out, but his protests suddenly became more animated.

"Have you people taken leave of your senses? When have you ever know the Penguin to commit murder?"

Robin jabbed a finger at him. "You tried to kill us plenty of times, you cagey bird!"

Cobblepot gave a dismissive swat. "Faw! Parries between combatants…immersed in the heat of battle."

Batman tapped Robin on the shoulder and pointed toward the blonde. "Observe: this Ruby woman won't stop glaring at Oswald."

"Who can blame her, Batman?" Robin whispered back. "By now, everyone's heard that Oswald fired at the motorcade from cover of the book stacks."

Batman rubbed his jaw. "Why does this case sound familiar?"

He snapped his glove-covered fingers. "Of course! Oswald, although you deny any murderous history, I recall a time when you locked Chief O'Hara in a box and suspended it over a swimming pool. You then had your man Cordy Bleu stationed at a machine gun nest and lying in wait to pick us off when we came to the rescue."

Robin nodded. "The old Penguin's Nest caper."

"Which only proves my point!" said Cobblepot. "Even that widely-misinterpreted event was nothing like the set of circumstances we have here! You must admit, on that occasion, a judge agreed you had blatantly violated the Penguin's civil rights! Clearly, eradicating you was his only recourse. But this…shooting a sitting governor in the back while in hiding . . . and with no profit involved! Why, the very notion is obscene!"

"Are you saying 'Raoul' put you up to it?" Dent said. "Were you his hired gun?"

Cobblepot scowled. "The Penguin hired others to do the dirty work. Plotting, directing, manipulating – those were his talents…Wyaaghh!" he erupted irritably. "This is like explaining chess to a group of pre-schoolers."

"Oh, you had underlings," said Commissioner Gordon. "Shortly before the shots rang out, a man on the street rapidly opened and closed an umbrella - just as the car containing Governor Klintody passed by."

Lois pointed at Cobblepot. "You wouldn't have been able to make out faces in moving cars from here, so you had your man signaling you when to open fire."

The District Attorney continued to piece together the puzzle. "Obviously, Cobblepot would need all the assistance he could get in carrying out the assassination. That would have been a difficult shot to make for someone of his proportions propped up on a narrow ledge."

"One thing I don't understand is why the Governor's limousine slowed noticeably just prior to the shots," said Barbara.

Commisoner Gordon hung up the black phone on a desk. "Your story doesn't hold water, Cobblepot. We checked the entire state directory. Raoul, the French flimflam artist, is currently locked up in Metropolis Penitentiary."

"Obviously, a different Raoul," said Cobblepot.

"What kind of city do you think this is?" Gordon said. "That Frenchman is the only Raoul in Metropolis . . . and there are none in Gotham City."

"Well, I've heard enough of this ridiculous story," Dent announced. "Oswald Cobblepot, I hereby charge you with first-degree murder and I am going to recommend you be denied bail."

Jimmy approached Chief O'Hara. "Could you tell me what happened to those vagrants, Chief?"

"Vagrants?"

"That trio that was being arrested and led off by an officer."

"We've made no arrests, save the Penguin's," said the Commissioner. "I'm afraid you're mistaken."

The agitated crowd outside tailed along behind Cobblepot as he was escorted to a patrol car and driven off to his temporary cell. Lois and Jimmy stepped out of the library's suddenly-deserted entry way.

Jimmy rubbed the back of his head. "I'm sure I saw trio of vagrants with a policeman."

"Were they near the library?"

"No. They came out from behind that leafy thicket over there."

"You got some pictures of them?"

"I wanted to, but I'd run out of film. I guess I should have brought more along, huh?"

Lois sighed, and squinted at the outline of the thicket. "It's getting dark. Let's come back tomorrow morning, dressed for some grubby work."

The sun rose at 7:04 the next morning. By seven, Lois and Jimmy were poking around in the extensive growth of the thicket. Lois was wearing some thick jeans and a heavy shirt. Jimmy was clad in his flannel pajamas and loafers. Lois couldn't believe it.

"I didn't bring any extra clothes along," Jimmy was explaining. "Besides, I don't think they're too noticeable."

"I don't know about you," Lois said, shaking her head. "I sure hope no one sees us together."

"Hey, what's that sound?" Jimmy said.

They could hear a faint voice coming from the other end of the thicket. They pressed on, blindly working their way through the dense brush. The shrubbery was difficult to navigate and didn't seem to have any end in sight. The pair was surprised, then, to suddenly stumble out into a clearing which contained a large utility shed.

"Good thing it has a window. Wouldn't want to waste a view like that," Lois gestured at the pine trees crammed up against each other.

Jimmy put a finger to his lips. "Shhh. Listen." Voices were coming from inside the shed.

"Gosh, I wonder who's in there," Jimmy said, starting to back up.

Lois seized his arm and pulled him by her side. "So do I."

Steeling herself, she peered in the window.

"Vicki Vale?!"

Fearing they'd been scooped, Lois and Jimmy rushed to the door and entered the shed.

Their journalist competitor, also dressed for outdoors activity, was standing inside. With her were an elderly man, a black dog, and a hedgehog.

"Hey, what are you doing here, Miss Vale?" Jimmy asked.

"Shortly before the assassination yesterday," she said, "I spotted three men hanging around this thicket. I came down here and snapped some pictures of them through the window without being seen. An officer showed up and marched them off, but I figured they might have left some clues behind. So, I'm back."

"I saw 'em, too, but the police say no one was taken into custody except the Penguin," Jimmy said.

The old man spoke up. "I was just telling your pretty friend that I got in late last night from Metropolis on the railway car. I bring my posse back here to bunk down when I'm in Gotham."

"Did you see this trio?" Lois asked.

"No, ma'am, sure didn't. Doggy would have run 'em off if they tried to horn in on his campsite." He indicated the animals with a wave of his hand. "Go ahead, you can pet 'em; they're both friendly."

Vicki stroked the dog's fur and Lois picked up the hedgehog in her arms.

"Vicki, do you have these photos with you?" she asked. "I want to see if your three were the same men Jimmy saw."

"They're back in my car."

"Are you kidding? Those pictures points to the existence of a conspiracy. They could be the key to solving this whole case. You can't let them out of your sight!"


	5. Chapter 5

_Notes:_

_Boxer Archie Moore, who played 'Banister' in the Batman episode "Shoot a Crooked Arrow", was reportedly set for an exhibition bout with George Reeves, set to occur the evening after what proved to be the date of the Superman actor's death._

_Steve Martin, in addition to sharing the same name as a well-known comedian, shares the last name of the man who first put D.A. Jim Garrison on track to solving the JFK assassination. Despite this, your government would have you believe he is a fictitious character._

_Both men's pictures can be seen at the web site referenced in the title description._

Bidding the friendly codger farewell, the three journalists fought their way back through the bushes to Vicki's car. They were relieved to find the photos still sitting on the front seat. Jimmy verified that the three individuals were the men he'd seen.

Within the hour, they and the photograph were at Police Headquarters.

"I took the liberty of notifying Batgirl of your find," Commissioner Gordon said, gesturing at the cowled figure behind him. "Now then, let's see these pictures of yours, Ms. Vale."

Unable to contain her impatience, Batgirl looked over her father's shoulder. The black and white images were slightly blurry, but the features of the three men were distinct enough.

"I don't recognize any of them. Do you, Commissioner?"

"Ehh, I believe so," replied the elder Gordon. "Let's check some mug shots."

He selected several large binders from a shelf, and handed out one each to Lois, Jimmy, Vicki and Batgirl. After less than a minute of page-turning, Vicki hit paydirt.

"Bingo! Here's the vagrant in the middle of the shot: Moe – from Catwoman's gang."

Batgirl suddenly stopped flipping pages. "Aha! Just as I thought: vagrant number one is none other than Cordy Bleu – last criminally employed by the Penguin! Anyone having any luck on vagrant number three?"

"Nope," said Jimmy, reaching the end of his photo album.

"None here," said Lois, slamming hers shut.

The Commissioner consulted a card catalog file in a separate cabinet. "I find no contact information for Cordy Bleu since his release from the State Pen five years ago. There's nothing current for Moe, either, but some interesting information. Seems his criminal roots go back to your neck of the woods, Ms. Lane – Metropolis. He was hired to kidnap a jet ace by one Steve Martin."

"Ex_cuse_ me?" said Jimmy.

"Steven Martin. Martin now lives here in Gotham City. I know because I've seen him brought in on drunk and disorderly charges more than once. Kind of a slim lead, but Martin might be worth questioning. His address is…."

1506 Irony Lane #16B was in a neighborhood consistently described, to the exclusion of any other term, as "shady." Batgirl might have allowed Lois to accompany her to interview Moe's former employer, but she had no intention of playing chaperone for Jimmy and Vicki, too. So, she alone now climbed the rickety staircase of the Happy Cockroach Apartments. She kicked aside some stray beer cans littering the hallway and knocked on the door to 16B.

"WHAT?!" a voice shouted irately.

"Mister Martin, I'd like to talk to you for a moment."

"Who is it?"

"Batgirl."

There was no reply. Batgirl waited twenty seconds for some response before she decided to kick in the door. A dark-haired, scruffy-looking man was inside, unsuccessfully tugging on a closed window. Batgirl marched into the room and placed her hands on her hips.

"I don't want to take up too much of your…"

She leaned sharply to her left to avoid a bottle that Martin had pulled from a six pack and flung in her direction. Martin backpedaled across the room, hurling beer bottles like throwing stars. Batgirl caught bottles two and three with her hands and redirected bottle number four with a well-timed kick.

She tried to control her temper. "If you throw one more bottle at me…"

Bottle number five missed the top of her cowl by mere inches and shattered against the wall behind her.

Martin had more success on the second window he tried to open. He was sliding out of it headfirst when Batgirl slammed it on his ankles, trapping him upside down on the fire escape.

"I have to admit, you are one wild and crazy guy," she said, wrapping her arm around his ankles.

He tried to kick her as she opened the window, so she yanked him back none too gently, spun and flung him skyward. Martin collided with the wall and landed on his couch.

She stuck the photo in front of his nose. "Now then, I'd like some information please. These men worked for you."

"Hey, that was a long time ago," said Martin. "I've cleaned up my act since then."

"Who's the man on the right side of the photograph?"

"Who? Frenchy? At least, that's what he went by when I knew him."

"Where can I find him? Or Moe? Or Cordy Bleu?"

"I don't have any idea what they've doing since we were busted; I haven't seen 'em in years."

Batgirl planted a knee in his chest.

Martin held up his hands. "Okay, okay, don't get upset, I'm a good citizen, I want to help."

"Cordy Bleu was hired by the Penguin after you moved to Gotham City. What's your connection to that waddling fiend?"

"The Penguin, sure. It so happens that I used to see the Penguin from time to time. My boss, Everett Banister, used to have him over for parties at his office on Tungincheek. See, the boss is really determined to do everything he can to get the regime in Nimpah thrown out! I'm pretty sure the Penguin's presence was related to that."

"Did they discuss the Governor?"

"Beats me. I'm just the guy that refills the coin machines for Mister Banister. If he even thinks I'm listening in on a conversation, he'll come roarin' out of his office. He's old, but he boxes, see, so he packs a pretty mean punch. Last night, he got it in his head I was listening to his phone conversation and he went ballistic. He unloaded on me good - right in the ribs. So, I'd really appreciate it if you'd get off my chest."

Batgirl stood up. "The Penguin's connection to Cordy Blue I know all about, but what's his connection to Moe? Or this Frenchy character?"

"I swear to you, I don't know."

"I'll try to verify your information. If it turns out you're lying, pray your beer-throwing improves, because I'm not going to be happy if I have to come here again. Good day."

Batgirl's access to Police Headquarters had improved dramatically in the last few months. So much so that she had her run of the Commissioner's office anytime after 9 p.m.. Shutting the oak doors behind her, she crossed the room and removed the lid on the Hotline. Upon her lifting the red receiver, the phone automatically dialed Batman's unknown headquarters.

"I just located a man who once hired one of the Penguin's men for a kidnapping. Moreover, he also saw the Penguin at a party recently held by an Everett Banister."

In the Batcave, Batman welcomed Batgirl's news. "Excellent work. This came from a reliable source?"

"More or less….Martin, the town drunk."

Batman nodded. "Mmm. Someone all-too familiar with the seamier aspects of Gotham City's underbelly. Fortunately, he was sober when he attended the party involving Cobblepot?"

"No, he was especially drunk then."

There was a pause before Batman's optimistic voice boomed, "Well, of course. It was a party. The fact that he was drinking lends his claim additional credibility."

"Can you verify that Martin's currently employed by Mr. Banister? And that he's not been linked to Cordy Bleu or Moe the henchman anytime in the last five years?"

She heard buzzes and bells for several seconds, then Batman's voice returned to the line. "Yes, that all checks out."

"With Cordy Bleu involved, I think that pretty much seals the case against Cobblepot."

"Not necessarily. Assuming the 'arresting policeman' was actually in league with this trio of vagrants, that makes Cobblepot just one of five hooligans, none of whom had a clear motive to kill Jefferson Klintody."

"Batman, the Penguin tried to rig the election to get himself elected mayor only a few years ago. I think most juries would consider that sufficient motive. What kind of information do you have on a henchman named 'Frenchy?'"

Batman turned to gaze at Robin, who was already typing the data request into a huge computer hard drive. Robin examined his results, and shook his head.

"Nothing under that name," relayed Batman. "I'll also check for current addresses for Moe and Cordy."

"I can't help thinking," Robin said, continuing to type, "between Frenchy and Cordy Bleu, plus the one known 'Raoul' being a jailbird from France, it kind of makes the whole operation look like a hit by the French underworld."

"On the other hand," said Batman, "Vicki Vale told us about narrowly escaping an attack by two radicals from Nimpah. Anything new on this Eladinga or Hermindra?"

Checking a computer card that emerged from a metal slot, Robin shook his head again. "Negative – on all counts."

Batman slapped his armrest. "Blazes! Seven different suspects and no leads on where to find a single one! The only individuals whose whereabouts are even marginally known are Clark Kent and Banister."

"Coincidentally, those two are supposed to face each other in a boxing exhibition," said Robin.

"Clark Kent?" asked Batgirl. "Why is he of interest?"

"Vicki overheard a phone call made to a 'Kent' by one of her assailants. Clark should be boarding a plane to Gotham City, so we'll be seeing _him_ any time now."

"Everett's office is at 544 Tungincheek Boulevard," reported Robin.

"544 Tungincheek!" Batgirl exclaimed. "That's the address printed at the bottom of the handbills Cobblepot was handing out."

"Interesting. Let's review," Batman said, tenting his fingers at the tip of his chin. "We have Mr. Martin observing meetings between Oswald and Banister. We have Oswald handing out literature containing Banister's address. We have those three tramps from the grassy thicket. There's…something familiar about all this."

"I've got it!" said Robin. "You're thinking of our encounter with the Archer. The Archer's gang robbed Banister at arrow-point. That incident transformed Banister into a security fanatic. From then on, he spent three hours a day in the gym, honing his self-defense skills. He gradually became a world-class boxer. Through his trainer, he also became a player in the anti-Maharaja movement in the local Nimpan community."

"Uhh, Robin," Batgirl said, "I think we'll have to strike Everett Banister as a potential suspect. He was killed in a car accident."

"What?!" Robin said, frantically typing in more queries. "I don't see anything about that."

"That's because I'm looking at the police report of the incident, which just came in twenty minutes ago."

"So much for that boxing exhibition…" observed Batman. "…very convenient for Mister Kent."


	6. Chapter 6

Police Headquarters was buzzing with activity the following afternoon. A phalanx of officers occupied the perimeter of the first floor. The number of reporters granted access were only a fraction of the journalists waiting outside to cover the Penguin's transfer to the county jail.

Lois was surprised to see Ruby Jones had somehow gained entrance. "Ms. Jones! Becoming an expert on this case, or are you getting into my line of work?"

Jones smiled sadly. "Emotions are running high this week, Ms. Lane. My feelings are just stronger than most."

Jimmy checked his camera. "Gee, I wish they'd dress Cobblepot up in his old Penguin gear. The Chief'll be mad if people can't recognize him in these shots. The Penguin really must have gone off the deep end after he fell in with this _Play Nice with Nimpah_ crowd."

"_Let's Play **Ball** with Nimpah,_" Jones corrected him.

Batman, on hand to ensure Cobblepot's orderly transition to a new cell, saw Chief O'Hara approaching with a white-haired gentleman in tow.

"You remember Mister Marc Andrews, the wealthy collector?" the Chief said. "I think you might be interested in this."

"I thought I should promptly bring it to your attention, Batman. About two months ago, I received inquiries on a pair of items in my possession – twin Penguin statues containing some manner of map diagrams on their backs. Several fellows from Nimpah discovered they were in my collection and made overtures about purchasing them. I told them I was leery of accepting a check payable in Nimpan funds.

"The day after turning down their check, I received a phone call. The caller only identified himself as a Mister Kent, and said he would make good on the payment for the statues…which he subsequently did."

Commissioner Gordon glanced at the clock. "3:57. Better bring out the Penguin, Chief."

"Bring out the Penguin!" O'Hara barked into a back room. "All right, now. Everyone back up!" He shooed the onlookers back with his palms.

Andrews pressed on with his tale. "I didn't think of the statue's sale again, but then yesterday I received another phone call from Mister Kent, from some location with considerable noise. He asked if the Penguin had inquired about the availability of my World War I bi-plane, _The Vulture._ I said he had not, and from what I'd heard, Cobblepot could no longer afford a rental car, let alone a rare airplane. Kent gave a rather unpleasant laugh and said he didn't think the price would be an issue. He terminated the call rather abruptly."

"This took place after the Governor's murder?" Batman asked.

"Very soon after as it turned out, but several hours before I heard about it on the news."

"Could you tell by the background noise from where Kent was calling?"

"Not really; just that it sounded like some loud party. There was one other name I heard; one voice called for a 'Mercury' to have another drink."

A hush fell over the room as Ted the Guard hauled out a shackled Oswald Cobblepot. Cobblepot looked around suspiciously. Seeing reporters, he immediately started to speak.

"Ladies and gentemen of the press, I urge each of you to relay to your audience the dire injustice being perpetrated today…"

Ted the Guard yanked Cobblepot's chains. "Not another word," he said, shaking his fist.

As the clock hit 4:00 p.m., a loud motor announced the arrival of a paddywagon outside Police Headquarters.

Ted the Guard pulled his prisoner toward the door. Ruby Jones unexpectedly stepped past Jimmy and - in a truly ironic development - pulled a small rifle from where it had been hidden in an umbrella stand. Brandishing the firearm, she blocked the path to the door.

Cobblepot desperately tried to flee in the opposite direction, but Ted the Guard held him rooted to the spot.

"Mother McCree!" exclaimed Chief O'Hara. "You can't kill him!"

"No turning back now," she said, cocking the rifle

"No, I mean you can't kill him with that gun you've got there. The only thing it will kill is birds."

"I've got a nice fat one in my sights!" Ruby said, refusing to back down. "This is for my husband, Penguin!"

"Lassie, you'll just embarrass yourself!" O'Hara shouted. "You've no business bein' here if you can't be bothered to do it roight!"

** Blam! **

The blast didn't knock Cobblepot off his feet, but the spray of birdshot snapped his head back.

"Nwyaauggh!" he squealed.

Before Ruby could get off a second shot, she was knocked off balance as the door behind her swung open into her back. She spun 180 degrees before regaining her balance. As she brought the rifle up again, a shapely purple leg kicked it from her grasp. Ruby reached up for it, only to have Batgirl shove her halfway across the room into the grasp of District Attorney Harvey Dent.

Chief O'Hara shook his head in disbelief. "They're tryin' to kill each other with bird pellets now. 'Tis a sad day in the annals of attempted murder."

The former Penguin stood in pained silence as photos flashed. Jimmy Olsen and Vicki Vale seemed to be in competition to see who could take the most pictures of the scene. Cobblepot slowly opened his eyes. His mouth soon followed suit.

"This is _your_ fault!" he shouted, pointing at Batman. "First, I have my good name tarnished with absurd accusations. Then, I am subjected to this dank rat hole of a jail cell . . . and now, you have the audacit_y_ to sit by as I am cut down in cold blood. A plastic spoon would offer more protection."

He was turning increasingly red. "Your willful negligence allowed the common rabble, easily riled by what they see on television, to roam the halls of Police Headquarters in search of scapegoats. I ask you, members of the press, how can we rely on costumed vigilantes to provide anything but encouragement to a _lynch mob_?"

Cobblepot suddenly leaned far over to the right and keeled over. He landed with a thud, and showed no indication of getting back up.

Everyone stood frozen in place, their jaws hanging open. Batman was the first to spring to action. He leapt forward and fell to his knees next to the fallen suspect. His fingers located a spot on the right side of Oswald's chest and he began vigorously administering heart massage.

"It's a heart attack!" he yelled to Dent.

"You're kidding!" said the District Attorney. "What are the odds? She uses the completely wrong gun, loaded with completely wrong ammunition – and the Penguin has a heart attack?!"

"That was the plan all along," said Batman, his eyes narrowing as he worked on the Penguin. "_Wasn't_ it, Ms. Jones?"

"I can't help it if I'm not a gun expert," Ruby Jones said as she was being handcuffed.

"Bird-shot, when inadvertently discharged near the heart, is a surefire method of triggering a heart attack," Batman said, "and a telltale sign of either espionage or mob involvement. You very seldom see it. It's generally confined to cases so high profile that only the appearance of _total_ incompetence by the shooter can deflect suspicion from the person actually ordering the hit."

He was encouraged by signs of life from Cobblepot. "You didn't teach yourself this technique, Ms. Jones. Who instructed you? Who stashed the gun for you?"

Ruby's face hardened. "I've got nothing to say, Batman."

Cobblepot's eyes finally fluttered open and, after a moment, were able to focus.

"You did it, Batman!" said the Commissioner. He turned to O'Hara. "Contact Gotham City Hospital – tell them to have their cardiac unit standing by."

(Bat-spin)

Two hours later, the sun was starting to set over Gotham City. Jimmy Olsen glanced around at the hubbub and revealing dress that seemed the norm for the _What_ _a Way to Go-Go._ Across from him and Lois sat a thin man in a business suit.

Jimmy had to raise his voice to be heard at the table. "Gosh, it sure is loud in here!"

"Thank you for agreeing to meet in a location that satisfies both my privacy and aesthetic concerns, Ms. Lane," said the man.

"My pleasure, Mr. Chitt," Lois replied, glancing at the chaos around her. "I'm pretty sure there's no chance of us being overheard here. Now, you said you have some information about the Governor's death?"

"I'm afraid I do. I've been seeing Ruby Jones socially since shortly after the passing of her husband last year."

"Let me get this straight. You were Ruby's boyfriend?"

"We were never constant companions, but I saw her on-and-off for approximately seven months."

"Did she ever introduce you to anyone named Frenchy? Or Raoul?"

"I can't say that she did. There was one occasion, midway through the relationship, when we stopped at a filling station to get gas. Ruby saw someone she knew and went to sit in his car for several minutes."

"What'd he look like?" Jimmy asked.

"Elderly gentleman, with a mustache and glasses. When she returned to my car, I inquired who he was, but she laughed and said pay no attention to the old man. Some months later, I was attending a speech by Governor Klintody at the International Quickie Mart and noticed the man again. He stood out because he wasn't really paying attention to the speech…he seemed more interested in the security detail. That evening, I paid a visit to Ms. Jones and discovered she had company. In her living room sat this same fellow, and alongside him was the Penguin."

Jimmy involuntarily spit out the water he was drinking. "Jeepers! The Penguin!" He looked at Lois, who was testily wiping up the spilled water that had narrowly missed her soup.

Chitt continued. "She didn't introduce them, but in the Penguin's case, it certainly wasn't needed. They were discussing the Governor's speech over drinks. The Penguin seemed to get worked up over statements the Governor had made against the nation of Nimpah. The elderly gentleman and the Penguin agreed that Governor Klintody deserved a harsh penalty for his impertinence. They began speculating how such punishment might be meted out. The Penguin said that 'triangulation of fire' was the key.

"He opened his umbrella part way, so it was shaped in a perfect triangle, and then demonstrated how, from that stance, he could just peer over the top of the umbrella as he fired, while the metallic fabric shielded him from return fire and concealed his identity."

Lois gave an amused snort. "I can see the headline: Mystery Man Unleashes Umbrella Barrage Even you could figure out that culprit, couldn't you, Jim?"

"Sure could!" Jimmy said.

"When the Penguin's description of the Governor's downfall became increasingly graphic, Ruby told the two of them to leave. I seldom saw her after that evening: once, for a musical, and then one final time last month. We were on the way home from dinner, when she asked me to park at the yacht club. She exited the vehicle and walked several hundred feet to the pier where she met someone.

"Although it was dark, their proximity to the water made their voices carry. I could hear them clearly, and the second voice was unmistakably that of her spectacled friend. He told her to instruct the Penguin, in the event of trouble during the Governor's visit, to make his way without delay to the movie theater showing _Chilled Scientist,_ where a car would be dispatched to pick him up.

"I heard the jangling of keys, and the man's voice telling her the keys would gain her entrance to Police Headquarters when the time had come. After that night, I didn't see Ms. Jones again until yesterday, when I saw her on the evening news blasting away at the Penguin.

"Last night, I was lying in bed, when it suddenly struck me where else I'd heard the elderly gentleman's voice. I got up and drew as exact a likeness of him as possible. Then I drew a second picture of the _same_ face, minus the glasses and mustache."

"One thing I don't get," said Jimmy. "Why would this guy and the Penguin talk about murdering the Governor in front of a complete stranger?"

"Jimmy!" Lois said, motioning him to zip it. "Please go on, Mr. Chitt."

"Actually, someone who knows me quite well has just entered the club. I really can't afford to have him see me talking to you. We'll have to resume our discussion later." Chitt slid from his seat. "I'll call you tomorrow to arrange another meeting."

Lois grabbed his arm. "Wait! You said you figured out the old man's identity. Who was it?"

"Police Commissioner Gordon."

Pulling from her grasp, Bill Chitt left behind the shocked reporters and hastily threaded his way between patrons. He skipped out the exit so quickly he almost collided with the grim-faced doorman

Recovering her voice, Lois turned to Olsen. "Quick, let's see the photos you took during the Governor's drive-by."

"Okay." Jimmy pulled a stack of photos from his pack and spread them out over the table.

"Where's Commissioner Gordon during all this?"

"Here: standing at the entrance of the library." Jimmy pointed to a wide angle shot. "And this is right before Cobblepot supposedly started firing inside."

"So if Gordon wanted to, he could control entrances and exits from the library."

"I guess . . . and he could order his men where to be stationed, so he could make sure they were out of position to see anything!"

"Or, if he wanted, he could have one ready to escort the vagrants to safety."

"Not many people would have the keys to Police Headquarters to hand out!"

Lois ran her hand through her hair. "Do you have any shots of the Governor?"

"No. I ran out of film before his car came by. Here's my last shot."

Examining the indicated picture, Lois could make out Barbara Gordon, waving excitedly along with everyone else in the crowd at something approaching down the street.

Lois put her elbows on the table and rested her face in her hands for a moment.

"Let's not tell Barbara about any of this yet. If Chitt turns out to be right about her dad, the news would crush her."


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's note: Robert Lowery, who played Batman in the 1949 Batman serial, also played Clark Kent's old friend from out of town in the "Deadly Rock" episode of "Adventures of Superman"_

In the Batcave, Robin and Alfred stood at attention as Batman paced back and forth.

"Ms. Jones' attempt to finish off Cobblepot, along with the sophisticated manner she chose to carry it out, suggests only one conclusion: the Governor's murder was part of a conspiracy! Ms. Jones refused to discuss her motive beyond some vague correlation to her husband."

Robin held up a computer card. "I checked on this Rutherford Jones. He died last year while incarcerated. Cause of death was reported as food poisoning. Even though his wife testified against him in court, she visited him frequently during his stay in prison.

"I daresay that suggests revenge as the young lady's motive," said Alfred

"Then why did she refuse to give any information after her arrest? She knows that she'll be found guilty, and thus has nothing to hide…particularly if she thought she was righting some injustice."

Batman pulled off his cowl to reveal Bruce Wayne's rugged features. He pulled several circular tins from a filing cabinet, lay them out on a table, and opened each one.

"The make-up kit?" asked Robin. "What's your plan, Batman?"

"Lois said that Clark Kent is due to arrive on the 9:20 plane from Metropolis tonight. After receiving Marc Andrews' information, I'll be very interested to hear what Clark has to say about the Penguin."

"You may want to consider Mr. Kent's recent auto accident," Alfred said. "How might a harsh interrogation affect his condition?"

"Never fear, Alfred. As you recall, I've previously traveled to Metropolis several times incognito to investigate reports of alien sightings."

Robin's mouth dropped open. "You're resurrecting the 'Gary Allen' identity?"

"Correct, chum. Both Clark and Lois have met 'Gary Allen' several times. They'll be much less guarded in conversation than they would be with Batman."

"But Kent's 'arrival' this long after Miss Lane may just be a ploy, head start on his escape. Or what if it's a different Mr. Kent altogether we're looking for?"

"Then we're left with the second name overheard by Marc Andrews on the phone."

"Mercury! I don't need the Bat-computer to recall that name. He worked for the Joker."

"And - due to the Joker's choice in associates at the time - the Penguin."

"However, you must admit" Alfred said, "that is just one more piece of evidence linking the Penguin to the assassination, making a conspiracy even less likely."

"The Joker wasn't the _only_ criminal that Mercury served under," Batman said. "Oddly, Ruby Jones' declaration of vengeance reminded me of my first meeting with Mercury. It took place during my college years, well before I had taken up the mantle of crime-fighting."

"Holy Revelation!" said Robin, clapping his hands to the side of his head. "I haven't heard this story before!"

"No, and when you hear it, you'll understand why," Batman said, allowing his mind to wander from its usual ultra-alert state.

"It was 16 years ago, and I was attending my senior year of college. Captain Gordon sent word that a miscreant briefly suspected as the culprit in my parents' murder a decade earlier had just been arrested on an entirely unrelated charge. I rushed back to Gotham, determined to have words with this suspect.

"When I arrived, however, the man had already met his demise in jail. Patrolman O'Hara confided to me that the hold-up man had been ready to testify against Gotham's leading gangster, and paid for it with his life. Denied my opportunity to learn the truth, I decided to pay a visit to this gangster – Mr. Lou Cranek."

(wavy lines, wavy lines)

22-year old Bruce Wayne strode with purpose towards the entrance of the swanky club.

"That's as far as you go." A large man blocked Bruce's way. Although he wore a suit, the man looked like he'd spent more time in a gym than an office.

"I'd like to speak with Mr. Cranek," Bruce said, keeping his voice calm.

"And you are…?"

"My name's Bruce Wayne. And yours?"

"Ah, 'Little Orphan Affluent'. My name won't do you no good – if you're not on the guest list here and I have to talk to you more than once, your legs are about to be broken."

"Well, if you're squeamish about my knowing your name, I can understand." Bruce flashed a friendly smile, although inwardly he was ready to exchange blows with the thug.

Mercury smirked. "Yeah, I'm real nervous that I might upset you. Name's Mercury. M-E-R-cury."

"Mercury, I'll bet you that if you go tell Mr. Cranek I'm here to see him – which I gather is sort of your job – that he'll tell you to invite me inside."

"You better hope so." Keeping an eye on Bruce, Mercury turned and headed into the club.

Minutes later, Bruce was standing in front of Gotham's reigning crime czar.

Lou Cranek sneered at the young man. "You could've just sent flowers, Wayne."

"I didn't come here to cheer you up, Mr. Cranek," Bruce said. "I came to show you that you're not the boss of everyone in this town."

"Oh, yeah? Look around." Cranek's pointer finger made a slow circle of the room. "There's an up and coming city councilman.…magician/hit man Jack Napier…Louie the Lilac….Deputy Mayor Stonefellow…and a couple of Gotham's finest, still in uniform."

Bruce's eyes narrowed, verifying that the guest list was indeed as described.

"Watch this." Cranek crumpled up a cigarette package and tossed it on the floor.

"That's littering. That's 25 days in jail," Cranek jutted his chin defiantly. "but I ain't afraid. And I ain't picking it up."

"I'm picking it up." Bruce slowly retrieved the wrapper from the floor. "Neatness is every citizen's responsibility."

"Sure, when you've got a butler to clean your dorm room for you. Don't' you lecture me, pretty boy. You think you've had it rough just because you lost your mommy and daddy. Well, let me tell you something. You're a spoiled little brat. Have you ever climbed the eastern slope of the Heralaya Mountains? Well, I have. So don't waltz in here acting all indignant with me."

He waved dismissively with his hand. Bruce was grabbed from behind and lifted off the floor by the collar of his jacket.

"It was nice meeting you," the mobster chuckled, as Bruce was hauled swiftly across the room.

The exit door was knocked open by the force of the young millionaire's face and he was thrown headfirst into a garbage can. Behind him, Mercury slammed the exit door shut.

Young Bruce pulled himself slowly up from the ground and brushed himself off. Squaring his shoulders, he knelt to pick up stray scraps of garbage and returned them to their proper receptacle.

(wavy lines, wavy lines)

"Two weeks later…," Bruce said to Robin, "and 1,300 miles away, I stood alone at the top of the Heralaya mountain range."

"Wow!" Robin responded. "Then it wasn't just your parents' murder that drove you to become Batman! Your main motivation was you couldn't take this mobster making fun of you."

Batman stiffened. "Well, you see, chum," he harrumphed. "One must always impress himself before he can impress others. How could I face an endless parade of ne'er-do-wells if I harbored doubts about my abilities?"

Alfred tapped his chin. "Yes, I recall the period you speak of quite well. You simply seemed to drop out of sight for an entire month afterwards, Master Bruce,"

"I realized that reaching the Heralaya mountains could be very difficult. Fearing that Mercury might follow me home, I decided to obtain a disguise at the earliest opportunity. Fortune was kind, for I passed a poor soul down on his luck: the latest drop in the market had depleted his portfolio by almost a third and he'd been reduced to wearing off-the-rack attire. I prevailed upon him to trade coats with me. I smiled and bid him good fortune, shuddering inwardly as I donned his JC Penney overcoat.

"As the days passed and I made my way to the mountain range, I found the inferior jacket even more inadequate for the purpose of blocking out subzero temperatures. I purchased several bolts of dark material to provide further warmth from some monks in a monastery. I then set about scaling the highest peak of the Heralayas.

"On the evening of the fifth day, I reached the top of that peak. I pitched a small tent and collapsed in it, feeling exhausted, but elated. I lay there, alone in the barren wilderness, and I began to mentally analyze this beast we call crime.

"'Criminals are a cowardly, superstitious lot,' I thought. 'They don't appreciate me as a person. I must have a disguise that will fill them with awe and respect. I must blend into the night.'

"I looked at the dark bolts of cloth covering me. The material was unconventional, to be sure, but hadn't I just conquered my fear of being seen in substandard fabrics? I picked up my bear knife and began cutting the cloth like a man possessed. My hands seemed to be guided by a higher power as I cut one odd-shaped pattern after another, then sewed them all together.

"One hour later, I had my disguise completed. Donning the cape and its matching cowl, I left my tent and walked to the edge of the precipice, to gaze out at the dark vastness below.

"I felt completely in my element: a primordial hunter; moving with stealth and determination, unseen to my enemies.

"Within five minutes, the sun came up, and I found I had become a conspicuous black silhouette against an otherwise white landscape. Still, though, I looked impressive…darned impressive."

"And that's the costume you wear today!" said Dick with awe.

"Well, no. By the time I returned home to Wayne Manor, the outfit was soaked with sweat and infested with lice."

"I wouldn't even allow him to bring it into the mansion," Alfred cheerily confirmed. "Without giving it a second look, I took it out back and burned it on the spot."

"What a story!" said Dick, shaking his head. "They should make a movie out of that. They could call it The Beginning of Batman."

"I would suggest, Batman: the First Year," said Alfred.

By this point, Bruce was in the final stages of applying his makeup. He no longer looked like Bruce Wayne, but someone heavier, with a less angular face.

"This face is always easy to reconstruct – I patterned it after my Uncle Phillip." He patted the dark wig in place.

"Now then, Clark Kent is going to have an extra visitor waiting to greet him at the airport…and shortly afterwards, 'Gary Allen' will pay a visit to Lou Cranek's address. A trace on the license plate his lieutenant was driving shows that he's back at his old hideout."

"Pretty suspicious that Cranek returns to Gotham City right before the Governor's assassination," said Dick.

"But, sir," began Alfred, "does this Mercury person's decades-old employment with Mister Cranek really warrant a visit? Surely this case is too important to be sidetracked by personal animosities?"

"Oh, I have very good reason to believe Lou Cranek is linked to this case," Bruce said, adding some final dabs to his makeup. "Cranek is the half-brother of none other than the Maharaja of Nimpah!"

"Holy Genealogy!" said Dick. "How can that be?"

"Cranek's father was the Maharaja of his time. He already had one son through his Nimpan bride, but on one of his trips stateside, indulged himself with a woman of loose morals. Although it was widely suspected the child was his, he refused to ever see or support this American child. You'll recall the Penguin was handling out literature concerning the nation of Nimpah only hours before the assassination."

"Master Bruce, hasn't it been some years since the Gary Allen identity appeared in Metropolis? You may want to try aging him a bit from your last visit."

"Good thinking, Alfred. A few streaks of grey in the hairpiece and….I'm ready. While I'm out, Dick, see if Robin can track down any leads on the vagrant trio."

(Bat Spin)

A nervous Bill Chitt entered a laundromat and glanced around. Finding it momentarily deserted, he made straight for the pay phone on the wall. He had to wait for several rings before getting an answer.

"Daily Plan…I mean, Lois Lane speaking."

"Ms. Lane, Bill Chitt here. I promised I'd get back to you."

"Mr. Chitt, we need to meet! There were some photos we needed you to see last night. Ruby Jones has turned down requests for interviews from me, Barry Brown and Vicki Vale. So far, you're the only person who's willing to talk about her recent activities."

Chitt put his hand to his ear to block out the noise from a washer hitting the spin cycle. "Well, I don't know what to do. I don't feel safe. I think I'm being watched."

"All the more reason to get your story out in print! Once you're on the record, you'll cease to be of importance to anyone. No, wait, that didn't come out right."

The washing machine was overloaded on one side, causingg the machine jolt back and forth. "Never mind, I couldn't hear half of it, anyway. Let's get this over with."

"Where are you right now?"

Chitt pressed the phone receiver to his ear. "In the laundromat next to my building, but this won't work. I'm too exposed here…they could find me. Where can we meet tonight?"

"I need to pick someone up at the airport at 9:20. Can we meet there?"

"Fine . . . and if I find myself being followed, I expect The Daily Planet to immediately provide me with a plane ticket out of town!"

"Deal. Don't worry. Meet us at the security checkpoint leading to Gate N in an hour."

I'll be there!" Chitt shouted over the din.

Hanging up, he saw that not only was the one machine twitching, but every other appliance in the laundromat was doing so as well. The rattling and clanging was deafening. Within a span of ten seconds, the washer next to the phone actually rocked itself forward three inches to touch his shoe. He watched, mystified. Half of the washers seemed about to shake themselves to pieces.

Chitt let out a yelp as the washer at his side suddenly jumped and jolted itself on top of his foot. He reached over and changed the cycle setting, which had no effect.

"Stupid thing!"

Now he was struggling just to stay upright as the washer continued its bizarre dance on his foot. Looking up, he saw the washers to either side banging into one another. The two nearest rumbled forward from their proper alignment. He trembled as they converged erratically towards him.


	8. Chapter 8

"Gosh, I don't see Bill Chitt anywhere." Jimmy Olsen gazed down the long hallway of the Gotham International Airport.

"I told him where to meet us," Lois said, scanning faces in the crowd.

"How long before Mister Kent's plane is due?"

"In about ten minutes. I'll stay here and wait for Chitt. Why don't you head over to Concourse L to meet Clark?"

Jimmy nodded and headed down the long causeway. Lois was contemplating having Chitt paged on the intercom, when a hand tapped her on the shoulder.

Behind her was a mustached man in a suit. "Excuse me, but I believe you're Ms. Lane of The Daily Planet? I was sent here to deliver a message."

"From Mr. Chitt?"

"No. Word has reached me that you've been looking for a man known as Raoul. I offer my services to help facilitate a meeting."

Lois sized the man up. "What's your relationship to Raoul?"

"I've been retained to look out for his interests."

"And you are?"

"We can get to those kinds of details in good time. Raoul might be prepared, with a little display of good will, to discuss who hired him. Do you have any message you wish me to deliver to him?"

Lois tried to keep her tone neutral. "You can tell him that if he's innocent, he should go public – The Daily Planet would certainly be interested in presenting his story. If he's connected to Governor Klintody's murder, things will go easier on him if he comes forward voluntarily."

"That may not be much of an incentive for him to talk to you."

"I can't offer him money, if that what you're looking for, however, I can promise to hear him out and keep an open mind."

"We will be in touch." The man gave a short bow and walked away.

Jimmy had almost reached Concourse L when a voice called out.

"Well, if it isn't James Olsen!"

Jimmy saw an old acquaintance of his sitting on a nearby bench.

"Mr. Allen! What are you doing here?" asked Jimmy.

Batman smiled broadly through the makeup. "I just flew in for work. I'm going to be in Gotham City for a few days."

"Mr. Kent's due to arrive on a flight any minute now! He'll sure be glad to see you again!"

"How are you these days, Jimmy?"

"Real good! One of my photos is up for an award."

"That's swell. How is Clark?" Batman asked. "I heard from friends that he's changed lately."

"Not really. Although, I guess he's not as happy around the office, now that you mention it."

"Why do you suppose that is?"

Jimmy looked at his feet as he searched for the right words. "Well... you know how sometimes someone can be so powerful and beloved by a city that his friends become well known by association? See, Mr. Kent's kind of in that situation . . . and he doesn't really care for it."

"Getting tired of being used as a go-between?"

"Not so much that, as he just doesn't like the attention. This cereal company hired a bunch of us to pose for ads for their product. Mr. Kent wasn't too enthusiastic, but the Chief gave him a speech about team spirit – The Daily Planet gets mentioned in every ad – so he agreed to do it."

"That's great, Jim, but I was wondering if there was something in Clark's private life that was bothering him."

"Gosh, I don't know if Mr. Kent even has a private life . . . but ever since the deal with Kellogg's, he's been getting assigned goofy, lighthearted stories: like lambs being raised by cows, or this boxing stunt with that elderly guy. Mr. Kent likes covering stories about important topics – threats to the city. Now that he's on cereal boxes, though, Mr. White won't assign him to anything controversial. Kellogg's is one of the biggest advertisers in The Planet, y'know."

Batman nodded sympathetically. He'd heard more than enough to conclude that the lad was clueless about whatever Kent was mixed up in. He kept an eye out for the first of the disembarking passengers off the jet from Metropolis.

The two were joined by Lois just as the first passengers were just starting to emerge.

"Why, Gary Allen, you're a sight for sore eyes," she said in greeting. Batman was so intent on scrutinizing each exiting passenger that his only response was a quick nod at Lois.

"No sign of Mr. Chitt, huh?" asked Jimmy.

"Not a trace. Do you suppose he actually has knowledge that would make him a target?"

Batman could feel his frustration building as one stranger after another passed by. Finding no trace of Clark Kent, he resisted an impulse to go charging through the security checkpoint after his quarry.

By now, the bulk of the Metroplis flight's passengers had dispersed.

"Oh, great! Now where's Clark?!" said Lois.

"Are you looking for Clark Kent?" asked a nearby passenger. She was slim and sultry, with curly, dark hair. "You won't find him on this flight."

"How do you know?" Lois inquired.

"Well, I should. After all, I'm his fiancée."

"Fiancée?!" blurted Jimmy.

"You're Lois Lane, and this handsome lad is Jimmy Olsen. Clark talks about you all the time."

Lois and Olsen just stared at the woman, who extended her hand.

"It's me, Laura Lime. Remember? The magician's assistant? Tried to have you thrown off a rooftop?"

"You?!" Lois exclaimed.

"Yes, Lime's my surname. I know, funny name. Go ahead, make jokes. Clark always tells me, 'Lovebug, you say the sourest things!'"

"_Clark Kent_ says that?"

"Sure. When it's just the two of us together, he really lets his hair down."

Hey, what's the idea?" Jimmy said angrily. "Mister Kent wouldn't fall in love with a convict!"

"Oh, I've served my sentence."

"But you were a scam artist and a thief!"

"Yes. People do change, you know." She took a moment to study Jimmy's wardrobe. "Most people, at any rate," she sniffed.

"Wh-when did you two get engaged?" asked Lois.

"Just yesterday," she said, holding up her engagement ring. "Clark said the only thing going through his mind during his car crash was that we might never be together again. After his narrow escape from death, he decided he was going to get the most out of life; no drawn-out courtships. He actually proposed to me on the hospital grounds."

"Where's Mr. Kent now?" 'Gary Allen' asked, forgoing an introduction.

"Probably back at his hotel," said Laura. "He arrived this morning and told me to take his seat on this flight."

Batman was already headed for the exit. He doubted he would find Kent at the hotel, but he had a pretty good idea of where else to look.

He stalked past a pair of men who were relaxing casually against the wall.

"Who was that?" Frenchy muttered to the mustached man at his side.

"Nobody."

Something about the departing man bothered Frenchy – maybe the way he carried himself. "Think I should follow him?"

The mustached man grinned and shook his head. "Oh, no, you just lay low. We've got The Daily Planet chomping at the bit for an interview with you, 'Raoul.' You're our ace in the hole."

(Bat Spin)

It had started raining by the time Batman reached Lou Cranek's old club. It looked more run-down than on his last visit several decades before. Thanks to some missing street lights, the entire area was draped in shadows, save for brief flashes of lightning from the storm. Snugging down the brim of his hat to keep the rain off his makeup, Batman marched resolutely through puddles to the front steps. Expecting they would creak, he gingerly climbed the short flight of stairs.

Bypassing the main door, he padded thirty yards down the landing to a side door. He knelt and pulled a skeleton key from his pocket. The key's handle was shaped like a bat.


	9. Chapter 9

_Note: Attorney Lucky Pierre was played on the Batman show by former JFK press secretary Pierre Salinger. Following JFK's assassination, one NFL owner vowed that the weekend's pro football games would be played on schedule. That team owner was powerful attorney Edward Bennett Williams, who had represented Lenore Lemmon several years earlier when her fiancé George Reeves mysteriously turned up dead._

_Also, I don't recall it being mentioned in Hollywoodland, but George Reeves' front door was broken and useless for preventing intruders at the time of his death._

With no sign of Todd Threedy at the airport, Lois and Jimmy invited Laura to join their cab ride over to meet Clark. The rain was just letting up as the three walked into the lobby of the Gotham Hotel.

"Why did Mr. Kent come to town early?" asked Jimmy.

Laura steered them towards the elevator. "It turns out the Penguin's assailant – that Ruby Jones woman – said she was only willing to be interviewed by Clark. She knew him from her previous brush with the law, and he was the only reporter she felt comfortable talking to. Naturally, my man was willing to move his flight up to accommodate meeting her."

At the very moment Laura stepped into the elevator, five stories above, the object of her affections was stepping into another elevator. The two cars glided silently by each other, headed in opposite directions. The trio had no idea they had passed within six feet of Clark Kent.

"Wait a minute," Lois said as they exited the elevator on the fifth floor. "On that case you're speaking of, Ruby barely had any contact at all with Clark. Me, she not only dealt with, but left lying bound and gagged on the floor for an hour. Why didn't I get a shot at this interview? How can that floozy pick Clark to confide in?"

"I don't know what to say," Laura shrugged. "Well, this is the room: 579." She knocked on the door.

When the knock went unanswered, Lois took charge.

"Don't think you're going to see Ruby Jones without me, Clark!" she said loudly, pounding insistently on the door. The last knock was of sufficient force to make the door swing open.

The room was dark and vacated, but a suitcase sat next to a closet that contained several identical business suits.

"This is the room, for sure," Jimmy said. He and Laura entered to look around.

"Say, look at this," Lois said, pointing to the door lock. "This thing is broken. It looks like someone was putting on a new handle, and just ran off and left it half-assembled. I sure wouldn't let them give me this room."

"Oh, I'm not worried," said Laura. "Clark can protect me."

Lois choked down her laughter, producing a noise that sounded like she was blowing her nose from her tonsils. "Um, must have something in my throat. Safety aside, I think you'd still want a properly locking door, if only because of all these traveler's checks lying around in plain sight."

Standing at the window, Jimmy began, gesturing at the street. "There he is!"

Laura and Lois rushed to Jimmy's side. Sure enough, they could see the distant, broad-shouldered figure of their Daily Planet colleague ambling across the large hotel parking lot towards an alley.

Lois pounded on the window, with only slightly less force than she'd used on the door.

"Clark! Wait for us!" Unfortunately, Clark had already ducked into the alley and disappeared from sight.

"Come on, Jim," Lois said, grabbing his arm. "Ruby Jones is the interview of the year. She may know enough to solve this whole case. If we can grab a cab, maybe we can still get to Police Headquarters in time to sit in!"

(Bat Spin)

Still disguised as "Gary Allen", Batman cautiously slid his way down a dark corridor. Lou Cranek's joint was mostly deserted, but there were voices and some light shining through a door crack at the end of the hall. He discovered that the door led to the back of what had been the club's showroom.

Voices from a television set helped conceal his approach from the dozen hooligans lounging around the tables. Batman eased his way over into an empty booth. Fifteen feet in front of him, crime boss Lou Cranek and his right hand man Curley were absorbed in a game of cards.

Cranek slapped down a nine. "Blackjack! What do you think of that, Foo Young?"

His aide hung his head. "Aw, Lou, that ain't my name no more. I went back to 'Curley' a long time ago. You know that."

"Hah! Curley isn't the best nickname in the world, but 'Foo Young?!' You got to be kidding me! How much was Egghead paying you?! He had you looking like some foofoo waiter."

Curley waved his hand as if trying to make that year vanish. "No more working with Egghead for me ever again. I don't care how long they got you locked up next time."

Now it was Cranek's turn to look disgruntled.

Over at the bar, the burly sentry Mercury was half-listening to the exchange. He looked over and was surprised to see a newcomer seated in a booth at the back. Looking offended, the towering thug rose from his stool. Batman pretended to give all his attention to the news program playing on the TV set.

"Lieutenant Governor Condellee is still in critical condition with numerous bullet wounds sustained during the attack. Doctors are doubtful he will survive," a handsome television host intoned. "Next on Reeves & West, we have this live report from Barry Brown. Barry?"

"It is a somber scene here at Gotham City Hall, where Governor Jefferson Klintody's body will lie in state. Starting Sunday at 9 a.m., over a million Gothamites are expected to walk by his open casket and pay last respects to a man who devoted his life to helping this state. The shock of his death has interrupted most, though not all, business in the state. Only moments ago, the Silsby Injuns football team announced their game this weekend will proceed on schedule.

"Famed attorney Lucky Pierre has announced that he will represent the Penguin at the upcoming murder trial. Coincidentally, Lucky Pierre also recently came into ownership of the Silsby Injuns."

Mercury's thick torso eclipsed Batman's view of the television. Telling himself to play it cool, Batman leaned back and gave a casual wave.

"Who are you?" demanded Mercury.

"I'm Gary Allen, from Louie the Lilac's gang," Batman replied. _'No sense creating more than one name for this face,' he thought. 'Besides, Gary Allen's good standing with Clark Kent may come in handy tonight.'_

The gangster eyed him uncertainly. He knew that the real Louie the Lilac and his men were all locked up. Unlike Lou Cranek, poor Louie was not well-connected enough to avoid doing serious time in prison.

"How come you ain't in stir with the rest of his bunch?" Mercury asked.

Batman was expecting the question. "The Lilac mainly used me as his enforcer, but for the ambergris caper, I was driving the getaway car."

"Enforcer, huh?" Mercury said. He looked doubtful. Several of Cranek's other stooges stood and approached the table

"It's okay, Mercury. Any man approved by 'the Lilac' is fine by me." Lou Cranek had also come over to inspect the newcomer. "Forgive my men, Mr. Allen. I pay them to be suspicious."

"Why is that, Mr. Cranek?"

"For one thing, there's a lifetime bounty on my head. My rat fink half-brother in Nimpah considers me a threat to his throne, so every year he sends out a new team of zealot assassins to get me."

Cranek pointed at a picture on the wall. It featured a turbaned ruler, and seemed to be the type of mass-produced portrait intended for public offices. The copy on Cranek's wall had been supplemented with pen-and-ink devil's horns and several extra chins penciled on the subject's ample neck.

"That fat ninny spends his days playing around with the millions he inherited at my expense, but he can't be happy with just cutting me out of daddy's fortune; he's got to have me dead, too."

Cranek turned to address the rest of the room. "But the days of watching over my shoulder for him are about to end. In case you haven't heard yet, Curley and I have been testing a new device. Actually, it's a new model of an old device we once had great success with."

He walked over to a large locked box and patted it. "I lost the prototype when I got sent up the river, however, with the right help, we managed to gradually reassemble it. So as of now, you are all members of the only organization in the underworld to possess...an actual, will-bending…thought-controlling…Mind Machine!"

The hooligans erupted in cheers and backslaps.

"We'll smash 'em all!" yelled Mercury.

"Cranek's mob rules! Watch out, world!" hollered Curley.

Gary Allen joined in. "We will use it for our nefarious ends! Advantage: Evil!"

The volume in the room instantly diminished.

Refusing to let the newcomer's choice or words put a damper on the moment, Cranek continued. "In case you don't remember, the Mind Machine allowed us to control anyone we could get a camera on…no matter how far away. Whatever order I gave into my microphone, the person on the screen would obey completely."

"You're going to rule the world, boss," said Curley. "It's in yer blood. You're destined for royalty."

Batman nodded in appreciation. "Any device allowing us to hide from the forces of good while we ply our vile trade will be of benefit."

This comment also drew raised eyebrows. Using the awkward silence as an opportunity to pry for information, Batman turned to Mercury.

"Oh, say, Kent sends his regards."

Mercury's frown only deepened. "Who?"

"Kent," Batman prompted.

Getting no signs of recognition, he added, "You know, the Kent who uses that pair from Nimpah; the Kent who bought Marc Andrew's Penguin statues."

Mercury snorted. "I don't know anyone like that."

"He's talkin' about Dent," Cranek piped up. "Harvey Dent."

Batman's eyes widened. "Harvey Dent is also Harvey Kent?!"

"Sure. Lots of us know that. Why don't you? I thought you said you knew him?"

"Not…in the Biblical sense."

Batman's clever ad-lib had the thugs befuddled. Cranek and Curley exchanged confused glances.

Batman threw up his arms. "It's a joke! Don't you get it? Boy, you guys need another drink."

"Right," Cranek agreed. "More drinks all around. Gary, you have to hear about the time I climbed Mount Heralaya. Any of you boys who haven't heard this, need to gather round!"

Batman and several henchmen leaned in close to the mob boss.

"Okay, what most people don't realize about Mount Heralaya is…now!"

Three thugs unexpectedly grabbed hold of Batman's table and jammed it into his ribs, pinning him in the booth. His wind momentarily knocked out, he gasped for breath. Mercury slowly circled around behind Batman while Cranek nodded with pleasure.

"As I was saying, what most people don't realize – until it's too late – is that I've never been to Mount Heralaya. That's just a code word I use whenever I want the boys to escort someone out who shouldn't be here."

Mercury cracked his knuckles and slowly placed his large hands around Batman's throat.

"Only you aren't going to be leaving just yet, Gary Allen…or whatever your real name is . . . and when you do, it's going to be in a pine box."

Mercury's hands began to dig into Batman's windpipe, crushing his already depleted air supply. The pressure of the table on his ribs was unrelenting.

Batman's hands scrabbled inside his waistband for his utility belt, only to find it was not there. "_I let myself get so drawn into retelling my encounter with Cranek that I forgot to wear it!! Curse my daydreams!"_

Cranek continued to calmly speak to the squirming, bucking infiltrator. "On the face of it, you'd think anyone would know I never climbed Mount Heralaya . . . but if you make a lie outrageous enough, people seem to believe it. I once heard a rumor that some idiot even went and climbed all the way up Mount Heralaya just to show me up. Can you believe it?!"

Curley erupted in laughter, smacking the bar repeatedly.

Indignation and rage coursed through Batman, but his renewed struggles did nothing to dislodge Mercury's grip.

"I see we'll need to notch it up a bit, fellas," Mercury muttered to the thugs in front of him.

Veins bulged in his arms as he squeezed harder than ever on the stranger's throat. He saw Gary Allen's face getting increasingly purple. Sweat dripped from Mercury's brow. He forced the circumference of the throat even smaller.

Batman's last thoughts before everything went black were of his parents.


	10. Chapter 10

_Recap:_

_Otold_ _Shivel, formerly known as Mr. Freeze, has been reformed for years and making a name for himself in Hollywood. His latest film tells his criminal history from his biased point of view, painting Gotham law enforcement as hooligans. _

_Jefferson Klintody, the Governor of the state that Gotham City is in, announces a tour of the region. He has a number of enemies (like mobster Lou Cranek) and his budget cuts have weakened his political support._

_The Penguin shows up at the Gotham Library seeking a clerical job. He is without his trademark top hat and tuxedo and claims to be trading in the Penguin identity for his legal name, Oswald Cobblepot. Librarian Barbara Gordon reluctantly hires him._

_Lois Lane_ _and Jimmy Olson come to Gotham to cover Governor Klintody's appearance. Clark Kent had been scheduled to arrive with them, but a car accident and a lost dog have delayed his trip to Gotham. Lois spots Lou Cranek's sidekick and writes down his license plate number._

_Cobblepot_ _is handing out pro-Nimpah literature in front of the library. Two Nimpans who oppose the Maharaja's regime get into a fight with Cobblepot. Batgirl breaks it up and notices the former Penguin taking an umbrella-shaped package into the library. Reporter Vicki Vale follows the two Nimpans and overhears one making a phone call to a "Kent" that indicates the library fracas was planned. Vicki is spotted by the Nimpans and narrowly escapes._

_Otold_ _Shivel arrives in Gotham to promote his film. At the premiere, he denies that he is unfairly glorifying his sordid past as Mr. Freeze. Shivel's wife states that allegations that Shivel wants changes to the election laws to allow a run for Governor are a smear campaign by Clark Kent. The event is interrupted by the appearance of Cobblepot, who is fleeing the police. Governor Klintody has been shot and killed, and Oswald is the main suspect. Shivel subdues the former Penguin. _

_The Penguin states that he had come to rely on someone named "Raoul" since falling on hard times. He claims it was Raoul who steered him to the library job and pro-Nimpah organization, but denies being part of any plot to kill the Governor. An umbrella gun is discovered hidden in the library. That, plus reports of someone signaling with an umbrella during the assassination, undermine Cobblepot's claims. Disfigured D.A. Harvey Dent charges Cobblepot with murder._

_Vicki Vale has photos of a trio of vagrants in a leafy thicket near the shooting. A search of police files identify two of the three vagrants as villainous henchmen Moe and Cordy Bleau (who formerly worked for the Penguin). Batgirl pays a visit to Moe's onetime employer, Martin, who is now a down-on-his luck drunk. He recalls having recently seen Oswald visiting his boss, Banister. Banister is an aging self-defense enthusiast scheduled to fight reporter Clark Kent in a publicity boxing match. Our heroes soon learn that Banister has met an untimely demise in an auto accident._

_As Oswald is being transferred to a new jail cell, former hypnotist assistant Ruby Jones shoots him at point blank range. Only the quick intervention of Batgirl and Batman save Oswald from a premature death. _

_Lois is contacted by Ruby's former boyfriend Bill Chitt. Chitt reports that Ruby had Oswald and a mystery guest over to her apartment, where the hypothetical murder of Governor Klintody was discussed. Later, he overheard the mystery guest giving Ruby the keys to police headquarters and instructions on dealing with Oswald. Chitt's interview is cut short, but he reveals that he believes the mystery man to be Commissioner Gordon in a mustache and glasses disguise._

_Collector Andrews tells Batman that someone named Kent purchased a pair of Penguin statues over the phone. He tells of a second phone call just after the Governor's murder, when the same voice called inquiring about the availability of Andrew's bi-plane. The only other name overhead during the conversation was 'Mercury'._

_The name conjures up disturbing memories for Bruce Wayne. As a youth, he had demanded an audience with Lou Cranek, but the mob boss had mocked Wayne and had his bodyguard - Mercury - throw him out. Following the humiliation, Wayne vowed to conquer the same mountain peak that Cranek had climbed. Upon accomplishing the feat, young Wayne had decided to create a somber costume that would make villains show him more respect._

_Bill Chitt calls Lois from a laundromat to schedule the final interview. No sooner does he hang up, than a mysterious malfunction causes the shuddering, shaking washing machines to surround and converge on him._

_Batman has decided to employ an alias previously used in Metropolis - Gary Allen. He makes an appearance in disguise at the airport where Clark Kent is due in from Metropolis. However, it is not Kent who disembarks from the plane, but a woman claiming to be his new fiancée. Lois and Jimmy recognize the woman as a former magician's assistant who served time for larceny and attempted murder._

_Giving up on locating Kent for the moment, "Gary Allen" visits Lou Cranek's old haunt. Pretending to be a mob enforcer, he chats up Mercury for information on Clark Kent. Unfortunately, Cranek sees through the ruse and orders Mercury to strangle the disguised Dark Knight detective! _

"Ohhh, what time is it?" Lois muttered as she was awakened by the phone in her hotel room. **2:30 a.m.**, proclaimed the clock on the bedside table.

Clearing her throat so she'd sound coherent, she picked up the receiver. "This is Lois."

"Lois, this is Rosemarie Shivel. This is terrible! You know I had some differences of opinion with Clark, but I never wanted anything like this to happen!"

"Ms. Shivel, what are you talking about? Is this about Clark's interview?"

"You mean you haven't heard?"

"I know that Clark went to City Hall last night for an interview. I was planning to go over to his hotel right after breakfast to see how it went."

"I think you should go over there right now!"

"Why? What's happened?"

"I heard that he…he…" Rosemarie Shivel's words deteriorated into sobs as she broke down in mid-sentence.

"Rosemarie! Tell me what happened to Clark!"

A dog barked excitedly on Rosemarie's lap. "It's alright, Scruffy, calm down," she whispered, fighting back the tears. "It's so sad. I have to go."

Lois was abruptly left listening to a dead line. She lay there only a second before throwing off the covers and springing out of bed. She set the receiver down, but immediately lifted it again and began dialing Jimmy's room.

(Bat Spin)

The first thing Lois and Jimmy saw upon pulling up to the Gotham Hotel was a police squad car and an ambulance. They rushed to the elevator, then down the hall to Clark's room. A patrolman was standing at the entrance.

"Sorry, ma'am," the beat cop said to Lois. "No one allowed in. Who are you?"

"We're reporters for The Daily Planet and we're working with Clark on a story. Is he okay?"

Instead of answering, the policeman opened the door to the room slightly and whispered to another person inside. Within seconds, they were ushered into the suite's main room by Commissioner Gordon.

"Were either of you with Mr. Kent in the past twenty-four hours?" Gordon asked.

"Unh-unh," Jimmy said, shaking his head. "We tried to catch up to him last night because he was going to interview Ruby Jones, but we got there after he'd already arrived. The authorities wouldn't let us in to see him because Ms. Jones would only talk to one person."

"Did Mr. Kent say anything about what he learned from Ruby Jones?"

"No, sir," said Jimmy. "We waited around for him there a little bit, then gave up and went back to our hotel."

"Now could you tell us what's going on, Commissioner?" Lois asked.

Gordon was unable to meet her gaze as he considered how to reply.

The door to the bedroom opened and two men in white medical uniforms emerged bearing a figure on a stretcher. The figure was covered by a white sheet.

"Oh my…!" Lois put her hand to her mouth. "Is that…Clark?"

Gordon nodded solemnly. "I'm afraid so. He ingested some poison. We haven't ruled out foul play, but that's not the conclusion to which the evidence is pointing."

"You mean….suicide?!" Jimmy asked in disbelief. "That's…that's just nuts!"

"The poison wasn't mixed with his food and couldn't have been mistaken for an everyday beverage. He had the odd concoction sitting in a beaker beside his bed."

The Commissioner pointed behind him to a police lab technician, who appeared to be running a test on a vial she clutched in rubber-gloved hands. The fluid inside the vial was a strange green color that seemed to almost glow.

Lois glanced over to get another look at the figure on the stretcher, but the ambulance men had already departed.

"Wait a minute! How can you identify Clark Kent if you don't even know him?" She raced from the room. Jimmy followed hot on her heels.

They caught up with the stretcher-bearers just as they were about to board the elevator. Lois grabbed one by the shoulder to get them to stop and placed her other hand on the cold wrist protruding from the sheet. Without asking permission, she ripped the sheet from the head of the figure.

"Is it…?" Jimmy asked, looking over her shoulder.

The two journalists gazed down in shock.

"It's him, Jimmy. Clark's really dead."


	11. Chapter 11

_Notes: _ _The actual name of the hotel where actor George Reeves met fiancée Lenore Lemon was the Gotham Hotel._

_Clark Kent's misfortune following his Ruby Jones interview is eerily similar to other events. Journalist and What's My Line panelist Dorothy Kilgallen was murdered soon after Jack Ruby confided in her about his part in the JFK murder. Authorities passed Kilgallen's death off as an accidental barbiturate overdose, a cause to which they would soon attribute Marilyn Monroe's death, also. Oddly, both womens' journals disappeared the night of their deaths – before they could be made public._

_On with our story…_

Commissioner Gordon and Chief O'Hara glanced up as they heard the window open. Framed in the moonlit opening: the silhouette of America's #1 Lycra-wearing crimefighter. Batgirl hopped down, her eyes quickly taking stock of the scene.

"I came as soon as I received your call, Commissioner."

"I apologize for the pre-sunrise summons, Batgirl. I was about to send the witnesses home for the evening, but Lane and Olsen insisted we try to resolve the whole affair tonight."

O'Hara spoke up. "We're still waitin' for the deceased's fiancée - Greta…Greta Grapefruit. Something like that."

"Laura Lime was the name, I believe," Gordon said.

"Well, Officer Mooney took her to get some coffee and fresh air." The Police Chief looked at his watch. "Where are Lane and Olsen?"

The Commissioner nodded. "Yes. Did they suddenly find a more interesting story?"

Jimmy Olson sat in the lobby of the Gotham Hotel. He was waiting for some sign of action from reporter Lois Lane, who sat cradling her face in her hands.

Jimmy looked at the elevator. "Shouldn't we go back up?"

Lois ran a hand though her hair. "I don't know if I can go back in there. That face under the sheet is all I'll see in my dreams tonight."

"I won't sleep so good, either," said Jimmy. "Mr. Kent was like a big brother to me."

"He was like a brother to me too, Jimmy - maybe a little more." Under her breath, Lois muttered, "Maybe he should have been a lot more."

"There you two are." The _Daily Planet_ reporters looked up to see Barry Brown watching them. "The fiancée just got back. Hurry up, everyone's waiting for you. What's the matter - guilty conscience?"

Jimmy's mouth dropped open. "Hey! What do we have to feel guilty about?"

Brown smiled. "Well, you two were supposed to be his best friends, but I didn't see you here last night."

Lois shook her head, as if she hadn't heard right.

"Wait a minute, Barry. _You_ were here with Clark last night?!"

"Sure, I'm always there for my journalist brethren. I stopped by about 11:30 to ask about that interview with Ruby Jones. Poor guy was all out of sorts about his evening. To calm him down, I had room service bring up a couple of bottles."

"Mister Kent doesn't drink!" Olsen declared indignantly.

"Not very well, that's for sure," Brown agreed. "His fiancée can really put it away, though."

Lois stood and motioned to Jimmy. "If you'll excuse us, Mister Brown, Jimmy and I are late for an inquiry into our partner's death." The pair strode past Brown as if he wasn't there and entered the elevator.

(Bat Spin)

"Now then," Commissioner Gordon addressed the assembled group, "what we've established so far is that Mr. Kent returned to his hotel room around 10:45 p.m.. Just over half an hour later, Barry Brown came calling, and despite the late hour, Ms. Lime let him in. Clark had already gone to bed, but he came out to join the pair for drinks."

Lois folded your arms. "And your theory is, after just getting an exclusive with someone connected to the Governor's assassination, Clark suddenly decided he'd rather kill himself than get his story in print?"

"The guy seemed really down for someone who'd just gotten the interview of the century," said Brown. "I got the impression the interview with Jones was a bust - that he didn't get anything good out of her."

"We'll never know, now," said Lois.

Brown continued. "He was morose about things in general - said now that he was in Kellogg's advertisements, he was starting to regret being in the phone book. I guess kids kept calling him and hanging up when he answered."

Jimmy nodded. "He did mention that a few times. He hadn't been too happy with his work assignments, either."

"I know he wasn't happy about being told to compete in a publicity boxing exhibition," said Lois.

Laura swallowed hard. "That's right," she whispered.

"Was there a suicide note?" asked Batgirl.

"Not a trace of one," said O'Hara.

Lois shook her head. "I think the obvious conclusion is Clark learned something in that interview which got him killed – perhaps as a warning to Ruby to keep quiet. Come to think of it, maybe that car accident of Clark's wasn't an accident at all!"

"Come on," Brown said. "That occurred well before the assassination; before Kent even left Metropolis."

The Commissioner cut in. "The crash may have left him in considerable pain. That may have influenced his behavior."

"The lock on his apartment door is broken," Lois said. "Anyone could have snuck in to the room at any time."

"Who could have known that...besides you, Lois?" asked Brown.

Batgirl flipped through a stack of travelers' checks sitting on the bureau. "But of all people, why would a man who just got engaged take his own life?"

"I think I may know the answer to that," Barry said. "Last year, I was covering a presentation on meteors with Clark. To kill time, we were playing twenty questions. I said 'Name a girl.' Clark said 'Lana Lang.'"

Lois sighed. "Oh, please, not her again."

"Then I asked him to name a woman off the top of his head. He said 'Lois Lane.' You know, the first woman that comes to a man's mind is always the one he's fondest of." Lois suddenly felt very aware of everyone staring at her.

Brown continued. "And now we've got Laura Lime. I have a theory that Kent had a compulsive desire for women with the initials 'L.L.'. What was so tragic, what kept him eternally lonely, was the fact he could never really marry any of them. Because if he did, they would instantly become an 'L._K_.' and they'd no longer hold any allure."

Batgirl leaned over to whisper in her father's ear. "It's a good thing he never met the Bookworm's moll."

"Lydia Limpet? Yes, I see what you mean." Gordon turned back to face Brown. "So, you suspect Clark's realization that he couldn't follow through with any of his romances sent him into a downward spiral of despair?"

"That's right. As a matter of fact, as Clark was heading back to bed - for what turned out to be the last time - I told Laura that next time I'd show Clark my microphone collection, and she looked at the bedroom and said, 'You'll probably never see him again.' And I didn't. I was just leaving when Laura came running out in the hall and called me back to the room."

Laura nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek. "When I went into the bedroom, I found him lying there on the floor. His cold palm lay a few inches away from the empty beaker."

"That's odd he wasn't in bed. Do either of you have any idea where he obtained this mysterious poison?" Batgirl asked. Brown and Lime both shook their heads.

"I just don't get it!" Jimmy exclaimed. "The Mr. Kent I knew was the most easy-going guy on the face of the Earth. He was the last person who'd ever kill himself!"

"Who did he spend his time with, besides Ms. Lime?" asked the Commissioner. "Who were his friends?"

After a pause, Jimmy looked at Lois. "Mostly us, I guess."

"You never saw him exhibit any odd behavior?"

Jimmy thought hard. "Well, occasionally Mister Kent would get light-headed around certain types of rocks."

"Around rocks?"

"Yeah, and he was always having to stop by a seamstress on the way home from work to get shirt buttons sewed back on."

Lois nodded. "At least four times a week. I don't know how Clark removed his shirts, but he never quite got the hang of it."

Jimmy continued. "And sometimes Mr. Kent would say something weird like, 'I just got back from Germany.' Since I'd have just seen him in the office that morning, I'd ask how that could be, and he'd say it was just a figure of speech or something."

Gordon turned to his aide-de-camp. "What do you make of that, Chief?"

Chief O'Hara, considered the foremost psychiatric expert on the force, twirled his finger next to his head - the universally-recognized signal for 'nutso.' "Sounds pretty squirrelly to me."

"I daresay it suggests a history of mental instability," Gordon agreed. "Coupled with his recent unhappiness, suicide seems to be the likeliest conclusion. While we can't rule it out, I'm not hearing anything to make me suspect murder. All right, I thank everyone for their time. Why don't we all try to get some sleep?"

In the hallway, Lois pulled the junior photographer aside. "This doesn't add up, Jimmy. We're Clark's best friends. I don't care how fast this Laura Lime romance happened; don't you think he would have told us?"

"Yeah! I'm not sure I like the smell of that, either. This ex-flimflam artist comes out of nowhere and announces she's engaged to Mr. Kent."

Lois nodded. "I think one thing's for certain: his death and the Governor's are connected. Solve one, maybe we solve them both."

"Yeah, but try convincing Commissioner Gordon of that."

"Don't forget, he's a suspect in Klintody's death himself. It may be in his interest to bury this case." Lois thought for a moment. "Did you get a good look at any of those protest signs in the crowd when Governor Klintody's limo drove through?"

"No."

"Why don't you check your photographs; see if you find any images clear enough for us to read the picket signs and maybe make out some faces? And, Jimmy, do it quickly. I have the feeling evidence is vanishing quickly around here."

(Bat Spin)

_In the deep recesses of Bruce Wayne's mind, The Dream was playing out all over. He was once again nine years old, strolling home with his parents. His father, Doctor Thomas Wayne, and his mother, Martha, were clad in formal evening wear. The three had just come from a movie and were wandering around in search of a shortcut home._

_The Wayne family passed through a narrow alley, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the brick walls. As they reached the mouth of the alley, a large figure stepped from the shadows. Bruce recognized the man as mobster Lou Cranek._

_The gangster's hand emerged from a pocket. Everything suddenly seemed to plunge into slow motion. Cranek's arm extended. A finger pointed directly at young Bruce._

"_You're a spoiled sissy, Brucie," the gravelly voice boomed, "and you'll never climb Mount Heralaya!"_

"Noooooo!!"

The voice was surprisingly strong, considering the throat uttering the word had two hands clenched around it. The limp body Mercury was busy throttling had suddenly returned to life. Legs, which only a moment before slumped lifelessly, now kicked up with such ferocity they separated the table-top from its cast-iron base. The pressure from three hoods pressing on this cracked table-top from different directions only caused the whole thing to splinter into numerous sections.

With the three men in front momentarily flummoxed, the stranger shot off his seat, springing up so quickly that Mercury took a head-butt in the face. He released the stranger's neck and put his hands to his aching nose. Who was this Gary Allen?

The stranger suddenly reeled off three quick roundhouse punches in a row, each snapping Mercury's head to the side.

** POW! **

** SMACK! **

** ZAPPO! **

He lifted Mercury off the floor, spun him, and heaved him like a sack of flour onto two other cronies.

** BOOM! **

As his blind fit of rage subsided, Bruce became aware of his surroundings once again. His breathing slowed, became more controlled, and he took stock of his situation. He was in disguise…not as Batman, but as Gary Allen.

He had returned here to visit crime boss Lou Cranek for a lead on the Governor's death; Cranek, who years earlier had been a driving force in the path his life had taken. Being mocked by the mobster (and, to some extent, seeing his parents gunned down before his eyes) had driven him to devote his life to fighting crime. Though occurring years apart, the two ugly incidents often melded into a single occurrence in his dreams.

Now Cranek had given him the lead he needed: that the mysterious 'Kent' involved in the assassination was none other than Harvey Dent. Outnumbered as he was, though, he had to find a way to get the information out.

A punch from his blind side sent the wig flying from his head. Touching his smarting jaw, he discovered his makeup was smearing.

He faked a charge into the midst of the other hoodlums, who all reflexively braced themselves. This provided all the time Bruce needed to sprint down a hallway leading to several rooms. He chose one on the right and slammed the door. He pushed a heavy desk up against it to act as a brace, and snatched a phone receiver off the desktop. Footsteps were already stopping outside the door as he dialed a phone number.

"Batcave. Robin speaking," came his trusted sidekick's voice.

"This is Batman. Brace yourself, Robin. Our 'Kent' is none other than Harvey Dent!"

"Holy Double Jeopardy! You mean the District Attorney bought those twin Penguin statues?!"

"Yes, and he tried to obtain Marc Andrew's bi-plane as well."

"But…but that can't be right. Mr. Dent's helped us out a bunch of times!"

"Nevertheless, I got the information straight from Lou Cranek himself."

"Why would Cranek know?"

"No time to ponder that question, I'm afraid. I want you to get on Harvey's trail and find out what he's doing – ASAP."

"As-Soon-As-Possible," Robin interpreted. "Should I come pick you up in the Batmobile?"

Bruce glanced up. There were cries of outrage and pounding at the door. "No. Tracking Dent is your only priority right now."

"Yes, sir, but…"

Bruce hung up the receiver as the desk it rested on shuddered under the pressure of the hoodlums in the hallway. Four shoulders slammed against the door, knocking the desk backwards. The goons muscled their way inside and immediately eyed the closet in the corner of the room.

Without warning, Bruce jumped up from behind the desk. Whipping the phone around on its cord like a bolo, he clocked all four in one brutally-effective swing.

** RA-DINNG!! **

They all crouched forward, rubbing their smarting jaws. Using the desk as a springboard, Bruce timed his leap perfectly. In the single second that the four heads ducked, he sailed overhead and came to a perfect landing behind them. He raced down the hallway in the opposite direction from which he'd just come. He dove forward as he reached the end of the hall, sliding under the nearest booth before the crooks in the showroom were aware he'd returned.

The four bruised thugs were already charging back into the room, furious at having been outmaneuvered. Wayne peered through thick pairs of legs stomping around the room. He spied the large crate Cranek had bragged about minutes earlier.

"_The Mind Machine!_ _If it's indeed operational, I can't leave without disabling it."_

Jumping to his feet, he heaved his table in the middle of the thugs and made his move. Dodging between several startled crooks, he made straight for the crate.

"Now this…" he said, lifting it from the floor, "…should made some lucky girl or boy very happy."

"Stop him!" Cranek yelled. "Kill him!"

Holding the crate before him like a tackling dummy, Wayne charged across the showroom.

** WHA-BAM! **

Hoods went sprawling like bowling pins. The disguised detective made a beeline for the front door. It buckled, but held on its hinges as the crate collided against it. Bruce ignored a volley of bullets which narrowly missed his head. He rammed the door with renewed passion. This time, it collapsed. He was out on the landing just ahead of a second lead fusillade.

He fell forward as he reached the flight of stairs, and rode the crate like a surf board down to the bottom. He heard a crashing sound within the box as it bounced to a stop in the concrete parking lot. He kept the crumpled receptacle between him and the mobsters as he headed for the shadows of the alley. More shots rang out. The cracking of glass indicated several bullets had done further damage to the box. As he put the place behind him, Bruce heard Cranek's angry swearing.

"I'll get you, you dirty weasel! Don't think you can get away! I got a good look at you!"


	12. Chapter 12

_Notes: I'm starting to run out of photos for the character gallery, but there'll still be a few more updates_

_The Black Dog Man was named for the mysterious silhouette seen in several pictures taken at Daley_ _Plaza_ _the day of the JFK assassination. Researchers are almost certain that Black Dog Man fired the shots that killed President Kennedy_

_Now, on with the story..._

Silence greeted Batman as he descended to his inner sanctum via Batpole. Upon returning home and finding no sign of Robin, he had stripped off the Gary Allen disguise and headed straight to bed. After getting a sensible eight hours of sleep, he was anxious to get to work in the Batcave.

He was cross-referencing data from the Batcomputer when Alfred The Butler descended with a tray containing breakfast.

"Good morning, sir. I am glad to find you unharmed this fine morning."

"I had it in my hands, Alfred - Cranek's insidious hypno-therapy transmitter! But the weight of the contraption slowed me, and I was forced to abandon it to escape my antagonists. Fortunately, it was already damaged, so recovering it will likely provide him little consolation. Still, it would have been nice to be able to rule it out as a threat."

"One does what one can, sir. Was the evening's investigation otherwise fruitful?"

"Very. For some reason, District Attorney Dent has been using the alternate surname 'Kent.' It wasn't the newspaper reporter mixed up in this after all."

Alfred lowered his head before replying. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you may wish to view the morning paper before continuing with your task." He laid the morning edition next to Batman's glass of orange juice.

'DAILY PLANET STAR REPORTER KILLS HIMSELF,' read the headline.

Batman snatched up the paper and absorbed all the information from the front page article. His mouth fell open as he read.

"Great…Scott! I'd been focused on tracking Kent down to arrest him, and all the while, the poor devil was watching his life crumble before his eyes."

"It is true, sir, your initial hypothesis was incorrect. However, you could hardly be accused of contributing to the deceased's state of mind, since you never actually came into contact with him."

"I must accept responsibility for my intentions, Alfred, regardless of my failure to carry them out."

"Mmm. The morning edition is already several hours old. Perhaps the television news will contain further developments?"

Turning on the television, Batman flipped channels several times before stopping at a close-up of Barry Brown's face. Brown's trademark smirk was absent as he addressed his viewing audience.

"And all of us here at WGIV hope Mister Kent has found peace, wherever he is now. While there's little doubt this was a suicide, some pieces of the puzzle still don't fit.

"Exhibit A: Lois Lane maintains the indignity that pushed Kent over the edge was being forced to step into the ring for an expected pummeling at the hands of ringmaster Everett Banister. A cruel publicity stunt at Clark's expense, she said. Only problem is, the story is a complete hoax. Calls to Gotham City boxing rings and Banister's manager revealed no such planned exhibition bout.

"Why would someone make up a story like that, you ask? It turns out Lois was shut out of some nice publicity when Kellogg's cereal company hired several _male _Daily Planet employees to promote their product.

"That casting decision didn't sit well with Ms. Lane, who's been scooped on many a story since Mr. Kent arrived in Metropolis. The Kellogg's publicity department had plans for more action-oriented ads, and had their hopes for lantern-jawed manliness pinned on Kent. But they realized that with his baggy suits, glasses, and dull haircuts, they had their work cut out for them.

"Could it be that an enterprising girl reporter promised to whip Clark into shape in return for inclusion in their ad campaign? That would help explain Lane's presence during some test footage of the 'new, manly Clark Kent.' On the tape, Lane can be heard egging the clumsy Kent along as he tries to perform an acceptable judo roll for the camera. One can almost hear the wheels turning in her head, cooking up a boxing exhibition story to frighten her co-worker into getting in shape."

The camera shot switched to an unflattering photo of Lois as Brown's voice-over continued. "She probably told herself it was for Clark's own good. I wonder if she still feels that way?"

The screen image now changed to an old mug shot of Laura Lime. "And that's not all. There's one more mystery to mull over: why isn't there a wedding license on file for Clark Kent and his reported wife-to-be, Laura Lime?"

Batman turned from the television. "Any news from Dick yet?"

"Master Robin left late last night on a mission. I have not received word from him since."

Batman frowned and stroked his chin. "I ordered him to track our dual-identitied District Attorney. I pray I haven't made two fatal blunders in the same night!"

(Bat Spin)

In his closet-turned-darkroom, Jimmy Olsen worked industriously on his photos. This latest batch was the quickest he'd ever completed. He hoped he hadn't messed something up.

"Come on..come onnn," he urged the developing fluid.

He'd completed larger versions of half a dozen pictures, but this shot was the best one of the protesters in the crowd. Gradually, their faces began to take shape and the fuzzy blur on their signs gelled into letters.

Jimmy returned to the lights of the apartment dining table to inspect his find. He pulled out a magnifying glass and studied the lettering on the protesters' signs.

"One…day….only," he read. "Huge…mattress….sale."

"Mattress sale!?" he cried, flinging the magnifying glass across the room. "This doesn't get me anywhere!"

He pounded the table. Looking down, he noticed a detail in the picture where his fist had landed. "Wait a minute!"

He hurried over to the fallen magnifying glass, and took several long looks at the center of the picture. Jimmy was able to make out the faint, but unmistakable, outline of a black dog on top of a retaining wall at the edge of the leafy thicket.

"The Black Dog Man - that old fellow holed up in the shed where the vagrant trio was spotted. He told us he'd just arrived in Gotham City the night _after_ the assassination!"

He compared the profile in the picture to his memory of the codger's canine companion. "That's about the right size! And his position there, just peeking out of the thicket, would only be twenty, twenty-five yards away from the spot Governor Klintody's limousine reached when the shots rang out!"

The pieces were all falling into place for Jimmy. "I better get this to Lois quick! But…will she agree that this looks like a dog?" Squinting some more at the nine dark pixels, he began to have doubts.

"Heck, I'll figure this out before I show it to her. I can get to the bottom of it myself. I'm not afraid of any old man and his dog. Dogs listen to me."


	13. Chapter 13

Although reporters from numerous sources showed up for Doctor Shivel's press conference, only the Reeves and West show had exclusive broadcast privileges. While print journalists could ask questions, TV's Barry Brown was clearly running the proceedings.

Knowing Lois Lane would be there, Batman decided to attend Shivel's press conference. In light of previous bad blood between himself and Mr. Freeze, he decided attending as Bruce Wayne would stave off questions intended to create a confrontation.

Before he could locate Lois, he ran into Vicki Vale.

"Hello, Ms. Vale," Bruce said. "I haven't seen you since you were assaulted by those Nimpans. How have you been doing?"

"Well, I'm awake at least," Vicki replied. "Since my little adventure, I've been having trouble sleeping – now, of all weeks. My boss offered me vacation time, but I couldn't look myself in the mirror if I ducked out on biggest story of the century. I finally had to go see a doctor and get some sleeping pills."

Looking up, Bruce saw that Shivel's wife Rosemarie was dressed in a more subdued fashion than earlier appearances. He noticed that she seemed to be fighting back tears.

"She must have been an ardent admirer of the Governor's."

Overhearing the comment, Lois Lane patted him on the shoulder in greeting.

"Let me tell you, Bruce, Rosemarie Shivel is one peculiar lady. It's just as likely that she's crying over Clark."

"Clark?" Bruce asked. "She became livid at the mention of him at the last press conference."

"Boy, was she ever!" replied Lois. "I think she'd been giving him grief for weeks."

"I'm sure Clark didn't need that. The news stories said he was already getting pestered with children's prank hang-up calls," Bruce said.

"I wouldn't be surprised if those calls all came from Rosemarie," said Lois.

"What would drive her to those lengths?" asked Vicki Vale.

"Back when no one in show business would give Otold Shivel the time of day, Clark wrote an article about him. It told how former Mister Freeze was turning his life around and Rosemarie was helping him deal with the loss of his first wife. That gave Doctor Shivel quite a boost; the film community started giving him some high-profile projects. Rosemarie was so grateful she started dropping by The Daily Planet to say hello to us. She sent Clark little showbiz mementos from time to time.

"Then Clark wrote a piece exploring charges that Doctor Shivel had political ambitions and was cutting an under-the-table deal with the state legislature to repeal the requirement that the governor be native-born. Otold wasn't too happy about the story, but Rosemarie felt personally betrayed. Clark didn't want to hurt her, but he had a job to do. The funny thing is, Rosemarie is still cordial with me, but it could have just as easily been me writing that piece."

"So she both hated and cared for Kent," concluded Bruce. "Are you sure their relationship was only casual?"

"Yes; at one point I confirmed that with Clark."

"Hmm. He never told you about Laura Lime, though, did he?" asked Vicki.

A sudden quiet settled on the stage as a director's hyperactive hand signals counted down the final seconds prior to broadcast.

Barry Brown's image flashed on TV screens across Gotham City. "We're here today with film producer Otold Shivel, the man who apprehended the Governor's killer."

The camera shot switched from Barry Brown to a close-up of a weary-looking Doctor Shivel. "Yes, this is a sad week for mein wife and me, for all of Gotham."

"Do you think by catching the Penguin, perhaps you made up for your days as Mr. Freeze?" Brown asked.

"Ah, how can this city ever forgiff me?" Shivel sighed. "I cannot imagine I would have ever committed such an atrocity myself, but who knows? Perhaps there was a time I was not so different from the murderous Cobblepot."

Lois waved her arm to be called on by Shivel.

"Yes, Ms. Lane?"

"Doctor, the League of Film Decency has been calling on you to publish a companion publication to _Chilled Scientist_ to list the inaccuracies in the picture. What is your response to their request?"

Clearly annoyed, Shivel shook his finger. "Zer is an agenda at work here, let us not be naïve. Now that I am finally in a position to tell my story, zer are those who would very much like to bury its allegations. My critics are ze ones who wish to avoid disclosing what is fact and what is fiction."

Vicki stood and was promptly called upon. "The Gotham City Police Department contacted you about one scene where you depict Commissioner Gordon dining on roadkill he had Chief O'Hara find and scrape off the highway. Do you feel _Chilled Scientist_ really presents an unbiased view of your relationship with law enforcement?"

"Vot is ze matter? You doubt Chief O'Hara's ability to track down roadkill?"

At Lou Cranek's club, the line got a good belly laugh from the mob boss and his underlings. Cranek had been only half paying attention to the TV, but sat up when Vicki Vale came on-screen.

"Look at her," Cranek said. "She acts pretty high and mighty for the way she's been carrying on in private."

"What do you mean, boss?" Mercury asked his employer.

Cranek smirked. "She was secretly - or so she thought - seeing someone who you might say represented a conflict of interest."

"Huh. Who?"

"Our late, revered Governor Klintody. They spent hours together - and not preparing Bible lessons, if you know what I mean."

"Whoa. How'd you find about out that?"

"I had Curley shadowing Klintody off an on for months. Before long, it was obvious something was up between 'em. I verified it by having Vale watched, which turned out to be a reliable way to keep tabs on Klintody. Of course, the next time she left town for a story, I broke into her apartment and had it bugged. Not only that, but I'd bribe the cleaning staff where she was staying to put bugs in her room."

Onscreen, Vicki pressed on with her question. "Well, the Police Department claims the scene violates a city ordinance. I thought you were no longer so cavalier about breaking the law."

Shivel smiled and rolled his eyes. "Good it is to see you again, Ms. Vicki. I see your role in the film was small enough that you have no qualms about turning and attacking a fellow cast member."

"You're not being attacked, Otold," Vicki replied. "I'm just asking a simple question."

"I feel the police should see ze scene as humorous rather than disrespectful. I am confident zat any court in ze land would uphold the legality uf my film."

Barry Brown held his hand up to signal the other journalists that he was taking over. "And now the big question: Doctor, are you going to run for Governor in next month's emergency election?"

Shivel paused dramatically before responding. "Many factors zer are to consider. Obviously, ve all hope and pray that Lieutenant Governor Condelee will somehow make a full recovery."

At the mob hideout, Cranek briefly broke into song.

"'For he's a jolly good fellow'," he sang in a sarcastic falsetto. "Yeah, he was pretty flippin' jolly whenever Vicki was around. Now, obviously, Jefferson wasn't the most discriminating fellow on the planet, so he was blabbing around my microphones more than he should. I salvaged one money laundering operation because he bragged about how he was going to bust it up."

"Great challenges this state faces in ze coming days," Shivel droned on in the television picture before them. "Unt the legislature has so far responded by fumbling, fiddling, faddling. However, out of respect for our fallen leader, I cannot seek the office of governor for myself."

There was a smattering of disappointed "awww's" heard from some Shivel fans in attendance.

"Doctor, I think a lot of us are surprised by your decision," Brown said. "I can't help but wonder what kind of political career you might have had." Sounds of agreement were heard from the audience.

Otold held up a finger. "Never, I did not say. Just not zis time. Don't vorry; ow'll be bock."

"You heard it right here, folks," Brown told the TV camera standing. "Film mogul Shivel will not run for governor."

(Bat Spin)

Camera in hand, Jim Olsen paced along the edge of the leafy thicket. "There's the spot where the black dog would have been sitting."

The retaining wall he was scrutinizing was about three feet high - plenty of room for a grown man to kneel behind. Jimmy took pictures from several different angles, making sure to get one showing the clear view of the road to be had.

A man in a dark coat and hat watched him from a park bench. The man rose and strolled over to the young man.

"Excuse me. Haven't I seen you in magazine ads? You work for The Daily Planet?"

"Uh, sure," Jimmy said, not wishing any distractions.

"Yes, I remember; James Olson. We should talk."

"Huh? Who are you?"

"I can't tell you my real name, but you may call me…LeX. Why are you taking pictures, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Well, I don't think I should get into…."

"Oh, please. I don't work for a rival newspaper. I could save you quite a bit of effort."

"How's that?"

"To begin with, I could tell you why there were men with rifles stationed in the leafy thicket when Mr. Klintody drove by."

"Jeepers! How do you know that?"

"I have my ways. But you must have better questions than that."

"Do you happen to know if an old man with a black dog is mixed up in all this?"

"Ah, you know about him. James…may I call you James?"

"Sure, I guess."

"I'm impressed that you spotted that. It takes a young person to challenge what the adult world takes for granted. You know, the search for truth marches on in young spirits like yours."

"Gee…thanks, mister. Who do you think killed the Governor?"

"I know who killed the Governor. We all know. We just don't want to face the truth."

"…And?"

"Most adults would find my news too unsettling to deal with. Can you keep your mind open to ideas that might challenge your ingrained perceptions?"

Jimmy's jaw jutted defiantly. He nodded his head with great certainty.

"I'm not going to name names, or tell you who I represent. Suffice it to say, there was a conspiracy to kill Mr. Klintody. For he was a bold leader…the kind who didn't hesitate to challenge those who really run this state. In the end, that courage cost him his life. Walk with me."

With Jimmy hanging on his every word, LeX calmly strolled away from the leafy thicket. "Let me ask you this: Who would have the resources and manpower to stage a full-scale coup?"

"An army, I guess."

"That's a good start. What about the police?" He gestured to his right, and Jimmy saw Gotham City Police Headquarters just down the street.

"Oh! So…there were both federal and local militias involved?"

"Keep going. Who besides The Daily Planet had a business relationship with Clark Kent?"

"With _Clark_?!" Jimmy scratched his head. "His landlady?"

"Bigger. Much bigger. Who paid Kent - and you - for an endorsement?"

"Uh…Kellogg's?"

"Bingo."

"They're a breakfast cereal company! Why would they be plotting an assassination?"

"They're part of the Military Agricultural Complex."

Jimmy's eyes widened in fear. "Military Agricultural Complex? I don't understand."

"An alliance between the heartland's food-producers and the firepower of the powers that be. Think. Where is Kellogg's' national office? _Battle Creek_, Michigan."

LeX stopped at the busy corner of Oak and Bowie. "When Kellogg's sends you that nice check, they're not just paying for an advertisement; they're paying for an ongoing relationship. They expect you to play ball - it could be they'll want a certain photo on the front page; maybe they'll want a story squashed."

He lifted a finger at the skyscraper in front of them. "Here we are: Kellogg's' Gotham state headquarters. Where the recipe for delicious Frosted Flakes is kept; and where, in the middle of the night, governments are toppled. Do you know what building that is across the street?"

"The GothCyt Building; that's the Department of…Health and Children, right?"

"Very good. That Department has a cozy relationship with Kellogg's. Kellogg's helped keep school lunchrooms stocked with breakfast cereal. And the Department let Kellogg's display their advertising in kindergarten classrooms across the city. But Mr. Klintody put the kibosh on that cozy arrangement. And when the state budget became overextended, Mister Klintody decided to cut funding for several departments, particularly DHC. This basically ended the reign of the Dept of Health and Children – 'splintered it', as J.F.K. promised he would, into itsy, bitsy bits. And they didn't take it very well."

"So? State budgets get cut all the time."

"Look at who we're talking about." He gestured upwards as they headed down Bowie Street. "These are men and woman who wield tremendous influence from their gleaming skyscrapers. And the millions in the state budget is the source of that power. Do you really think they'd relinquish all that control without a fight? There are no mistakes in government, James. Anything that goes 'wrong' is either a conspiracy, or laying the groundwork for one. The leaders of the DHC had the knowledge and the connections. The only thing they lacked was their own private army of jungle mercenaries - which is where Kellogg's came in."

Jimmy rubbed his head. "Well, if they wanted the Governor dead, wouldn't it be a lot simpler to just hire an arch-criminal - like the Penguin - to shoot him?"

LeX laughed. "Oh, James, James. You're still not seeing the big picture. The Penguin isn't really an arch-criminal. The entirety of his 'criminal history' was just a ruse. Every move he made was dictated by higher-ups. It was all merely a front for his military work for Kellogg's. Oswald Cobblepot started out as a stocker in the Kellogg's munitions department when he was just sixteen. From there, he worked his way up the ladder - although not very far up the ladder. He was basically a lackey."

Jimmy rubbed his jaw. "But he's always been one of Batman's most unstoppable foes!"

"Of course. Kellogg's went to great lengths to paint Cobblepot as some rogue crime lord." He motioned for Jimmy to stop. "And what business do you see there…in the basement of the very same building?"

"Emporium of Unearthly Witchcraft?! How is that connected to all of this?"

"The Black Arts: play toys of the Department of Health and Children for over a decade. Despite Mr. Klintody's efforts, he was unable to reform a decadent bureaucracy that fell under the influence of nocturnal witchcraft."

"So…this witchcraft business, the state agency, and Kellogg's were all in cahoots to get rid of any opposition. Which one was in charge?"

"All of them. None of them. These people constantly circulate amongst themselves: the cereal makers, the necromancers, the child behavior specialists. They're all the same group."

Jimmy gulped. "Were they…the ones responsible for Mr. Kent's death, too?"

"Absolutely. Kellogg's didn't want to see any Ruby Jones interviews on the front pages."

"But gosh, why didn't they try to kill Miss Lane and me? We've been interviewing witnesses left and right."

"That would have been too obvious. They always opt for the unexpected."

Jimmy stared blankly at a "Yield" sign, his mind spinning.

The stranger continued. "At the time of the shooting, the entire telephone system went dead in Metropolis for a whole hour. Does that sound like coincidence to you, James? Not for one moment. The phones didn't work to keep the wrong stories from spreading if anything went wrong with the plan. But don't believe me. Do your own thinking."

Jimmy furrowed his brow. "Well…what good would it do them to knock out the Metropolis phone system for an hour? Did they think everyone would just forget about the Governor's murder when the phones started working again?"

"That's just what Kellog's wants you to think."

"And I thought you said you weren't going to name names."

"Okay, that's enough thinking for right now. Do you want the killers to go free?"

"No!"

The stranger patted him on the back. "Good boy! I wish you luck, James. I hope you're strong enough for what you're about to face."

Without another word, the man calmly strolled off towards the Persimmons Overpass.

Jimmy gazed up at the huge rotating 'K' that perched atop the Kellogg's Building. Since his days as a tot, Jimmy had always trusted that special K as a symbol of delicious nutrition, his best friend at the breakfast table. Since joining The Daily Planet, he had come to place even greater trust in bright red initials.

Now, he realized, K didn't just stand for Kellogg's. It also stood for 'killed', as Governor Klintody had learned the hard way. The blood-colored K seemed to beam down at him malevolently.


	14. Chapter 14

In the Batcave, Batman paced back and forth. Robin had last checked in some twelve hours before and reported Harvey Dent was continuing his troubling pattern of doing nothing suspicious. Aunt Harriet, it seemed, led a more suspenseful life.

Suddenly, the Bat-microphone crackled to life. Batman jumped to his feet and raced across the room to grab it.

"Robin! What's Mister Dent's status?"

"I can't say exactly," responded his assistant. "I've been tailing him for half an hour. He takes sudden turns down alleys every few minutes."

"He knows he's being tailed."

"I don't think so. He hasn't glanced behind himself once."

"Where are you?" Batman asked.

"Somewhere in the south-central district. I haven't seen a street sign in at least ten minutes. Okay, now we're going down another alley!"

Batman rubbed his chin, considering how to advise his partner. He punched several buttons on the Batcomputer's keyboard. Several computer data cards popped out in response.

"Harvey Dent, age thirty-four," he read aloud. "Moved to Gotham City at an early age with his mother. First ran into trouble at school when a bully he beat up had to be taken to the hospital. He escaped punishment because the boy's 'injury' turned out to be appendicitis.

"Young Harvey was able to control his temper after that, but he still frequently got into trouble. Then, a civics class on the law had a positive effect on the lad. Afterwards, his grades showed a marked improvement."

"Wait!" Robin's voice exclaimed. "He's going into a house!"

"What's the address?"

"Uh, hold on…" Robin crept from the side entrance Dent had just disappeared through, and walked over to the front of the house. He squinted into the darkness. "245 is the house number, but I have no idea on what street. He's had me doubling back like crazy."

"What's going on in there?"

"There's a bunch of lights on, but nothing's happening in any of the rooms I can see. What else does the Batcomputer have on him?"

Batman regarded the data cards in his hand. "Dent went to law school following a stint in the Air Force. He was subsequently hired by a large Gotham City law firm. He did Mayor Linseed a favor by running a losing campaign for city assessor - purely so the party would have someone on the ballot. The Mayor didn't forget and appointed him assistant District Attorney the following year.

"In a bold moved for higher office, he decided to oppose Lucky Pierre in the race for District Attorney. He received mixed reviews for his campaign. He would do things like engineer a large arms shipment bust, but then try to choke a detainee for kicking mud on him. He still wound up being elected on the strength of his self-assured performance in debates and his well-funded campaign.

"Two months into his tenure as D.A., his face was indelibly stained during a trial by a green dye thrown by Boss Maroni. Despite the disfigurement, he vowed to continue his war on crime. I always found him to be dedicated and hard-working. Recently, however, stories have emerged that paint a different picture. In some, he is a brilliant leader, a cool-headed man of refined tastes. In others, he is a brutal boss with an explosive temper."

"Batman! Batman! Holy . . ."

"What is it?"

"It's some kind of costume party…for weirdos!" Robin crouched in the darkness, gazing at the wild scene through the window.

Gaily colored men and women were cavorting about the room in outlandish costumes. He spotted two Nimpan men dressed up in colonial American garb, and decided they resembled the pair from Cobblepot's library altercation. District Attorney Dent was also among the crowd. He was covered from head to toe in gold makeup so thick it somewhat concealed his scars.

"Batman, we've been looking all over for a 'Mercury.' It wasn't Cranek's bodyguard being referenced in that phone conversation; it was Harvey Dent dressed up as the Roman God!"

"Of course! Mercury, the God of Thieves," observed Batman, "known for his staff of twin snakes."

"Ohh!" Robin said, turning away in revulsion. "He's all dressed in gold…and he's dancing with one of the girls from the Cha-cha Club . . . and, Batman, he's dancing badly!"

"Steady, chum. Steady."

". . . and his chest is buck naked!" Robin rubbed the back of his neck, wishing he could forget the bizarre sight.

"You'd better get out of there now."

"No! I'm okay – I can stick it out. They can't keep this up much longer. Mister Dent has to be in court tomorrow morning."

(Bat Spin)

The sun was already peeking over the horizon before Dent emerged from the house. By this time, he had traded in the gold makeup for his standard business suit. Stiff from a night spent on the lawn, Robin crept from behind some large bushes. Since it was now light, he had to take greater care in trailing the District Attorney.

He was barely half a block from the house, when a voice called out. "Hold it right there!"

Robin froze in his tracks. A police cruiser had moved up behind him as he tiptoed along on Dent's tail. Two officers got out of the vehicle and placed their hands on their side arms.

"Well, well," the District Attorney said, walking back towards the Boy Wonder. "It was you spying on me. Someone leaving the party spotted a silhouette and called to warn me. I have to say, I'm disappointed."

"I'll bet you are," Robin said. He turned to the officers and pointed at Harvey. "This man is a degenerate!"

Dent's expression hardened. "It is against the law to stalk the District Attorney. You're under arrest."

Robin thumbed the call button wired to his utility belt. "Batman, I've been discovered! He's having me arrested!"

One of the officers aimed his handgun and crouched in a shooting position.

"Slowly unbuckle your utility belt, Robin."

Seeing the officer meant business, Robin did as he was ordered. He allowed himself to be handcuffed and put in the squad car by the policemen.

Harvey Dent took a seat beside him in the back seat; the officers resumed their places in the front. The vehicle drove down the street as surreptitiously as it had arrived.


	15. Chapter 15

At 9 a.m. sharp, Commissioner Gordon called to order a hastily-arranged press conference. The Daily Planet had been pressuring him for an update on developments in the Klintody and Kent cases.

Batgirl decided to attend at the advice of her father. Looking around the warm, crowded room, she spied Vicki, Jimmy and Lois, but no sign of the Dynamic Duo.

Commissioner Gordon cleared his throat. "We continue to feel confident we have the man responsible for the Governor's murder. District Attorney Dent is building a strong case against Mister Cobblepot. Despite his birdshot injury, Cobblepot has been pronounced fit to stand trial."

The Commissioner shuffled a few papers. "In the matter of Clark Kent's death, I've seen no reason to alter a finding of suicide. Barry Brown revealed some new information about both Ms. Lane and Ms. Lime on his television program. Although certainly interesting, it didn't directly pertain to the cause of death."

Hidden amidst the crowd of reporters, the sultry Laura Lime turned to the man next to her. "They're talking about me."

Famed attorney Lucky Pierre leaned over. "Just sit tight. Say, you look beautiful today." Lime ignored the compliment.

"Whose fingerprints were on the beaker Kent drank from?" asked Barry Brown.

"We dusted it, but besides fourteen prints belonging to Chief O'Hara, found nothing."

"Has Ruby Jones been informed of Clark's death? And did she give any indication what she told him during their interview?" Vicki Vale asked.

"Ms. Jones did tell us this much: her reason for granting only a single interview was just because she had so little to say. She wants it known she'll feel safer if she outside of Gotham City. She maintains, besides that, Mr. Kent did not receive any wealth of secrets."

"That doesn't help us much," Jimmy muttered.

Lois waved her hand. "Commissioner, would you mind explaining why Clark Kent's remains were washed before the coroner could determine a cause of death?"

"Ms. Lane, I wasn't in the room during the autopsy and can't comment on every little procedure. I am fully aware of your desire that we re-examine this matter and continue re-examining it until such time as we unearth both a murder and a murderer."

Laura Lime tapped Lucky Pierre on the shoulder. "When are you going to get the body turned over to me?"

"It's not that easy, gorgeous. You can tell them everything's resolved and you want the remains or you can tell them it's suspicious and you want an investigation. You can't have it both ways."

"That's my stiff," she grumbled.

She heard a follow-up question from Ms. Lane. "Did you discover what was meant by Laura Lime's prediction that Barry Brown would never see Clark again?"

"I never said that!" Laura called out. "Mr. Brown's not remembering accurately what I said!"

Lois turned towards Barry Brown. "Mr. Brown, your response?"

"It's like this, Lois. Anytime two people have a number of drinks, at least one is going to later have difficulty recalling what was said."

"I must admit to wondering why you didn't mention your employment by the Kellogg's Company earlier, Ms. Lane," Commissioner Gordon said.

Jimmy's jaw dropped. "Miss Lane, you were making deals with Kellogg's?"

She shot him a glare. "Oh, use your head, Jimmy. They're just trying to throw blame elsewhere."

The Commissioner didn't appreciate the comment. "Exactly what advice did you receive from the cereal company? And which of those suggestions did you pass on to Mr. Kent?"

The spunky reporter didn't back down. "Did you ever identify the green fluid that Clark ingested?"

"There seems to be some confusion over who is interviewing whom at the moment," the exasperated lawman said. "I trust you agree a murder investigation takes precedence over preparing a newspaper article."

The doors to the Commissioner's office suddenly burst open. Robin was shoved into the room, followed by Harvey Dent and two patrol officers. All four were yelling, so engrossed in debate they paid no mind to the ongoing press conference.

"Great…Scott!" Gordon said in dismay. Before the reporters had a chance to interject, he announced, "This will conclude today's press conference!"

Some journalists raised their hands with questions, but Chief O'Hara was already shooing them out the door. "You heard the man. If you can't follow directions, I'll have to ban the lot of you."

The group reluctantly exited, snapping photos of the quarrel as they departed. They were still trying to get answers as they were escorted out onto the front steps of Police Headquarters.

"Chief O'Hara, was Robin being arrested?" Jimmy called. Before he could get the whole question out, he found himself addressing a slammed door.

The reporters slowly started to disperse and head off down the steps.

"Not so fast, ladies and gentlemen!" Lucky Pierre stood at the top of the stairs.

"I have an announcement to make. Laura Lime, the grieving fiancée of the late Clark Kent, came to see me yesterday. She is concerned there are so many suspicious details about the death. She is also understandably upset her relationship with the deceased is being questioned in some quarters…now, of all times. I have agreed to represent her interests."

Vicki was quick with a question. "Pierre, do you really think you can adequately represent the Governor's accused murdererhen you're actively taking on new clients?"

"With a client whose innocence is so self-evident, one could take on an infinite number of new clients…were all as noble as Oswald Cobblepot," Lucky Pierre replied, holding a hand to his chest. "Of course, Ms. _Lime_ is not on trial for anything, which may come as a surprise to Mister Brown. The notion that her fiancé committed suicide is ridiculous, and why the police continue with their charade is beyond me. This whole case is nothing but phony angles."

Pierre gestured for Laura to approach. "Now, Ms. Lime would like to say a few words to you herself."

"I said a few words," he whispered to her as she passed. "Do this right and I'll buy you dinner."

"I don't want your dinner," she said under her breath.

Jimmy dutifully took some pictures as the solemn brunette spoke. "As you saw this morning, the Gotham Police Department refuses to look into my dear Clark's death. So, I'd like to ask – to beg – Gotham City's costumed heroes to step forward, to help me bring the killer to justice. Thank you."

"Laura, is it true you know Lou Cranek?" Barry Brown called before she could leave.

"I've met Mr.Cranek, yeah. I found him to be a nice business man, a–"

"That's all for today," Pierre cut in, waving his arms as if directing planes for takeoff. "She's very tired; let's just let her rest."

Jimmy turned to Lois Lane, who was tapping her chin with her pen.

"Golly Miss Lane, you look pretty steamed," he observed. "You still think Commissioner Gordon is in cahoots with the murderers?"

"All I know is that the Governor is dead and the Police Commissioner isn't getting us any closer to finding the assassin. Clark is dead and the Commissioner isn't interested in investigating that, either. Anyone who thinks they're going to shrug off, or worse, derail the search for my partner's killer had better think again. He may not have to answer my questions in person, but I'll make darn sure he keeps hearing them until he has some answers."

_Chapter Notes:_

_Lucky Pierre_ _was played by JFK's actual press secretary, Pierre Salinger. _

_Lenore Lemon's attorney during the George Reeves' scandal would – four years later - insist his NFL franchise play as schedule the weekend following the death of JFK. Coincidence? _


	16. Chapter 16

Pandemonium reigned inside the Commissioner's office. Robin the Boy Wonder was halfway through the process of being formally booked. Batman had now arrived and was insistently requesting Robin's release. D.A. Harvey Dent was equally insistent that the colorfully-clad crimefighter be locked up. There was a lot of yelling.

"All right, all right, all right!" Gordon had to shout to get the room quiet. "Now, Mr. Dent, I respect your right to press charges, but locking up Robin like a common criminal? I feel we'd all be best served by letting this incident pass."

Dent was not satisfied. "If you're not going to arrest him, at least unmask him. We'll need to locate him if this stalking behavior persists."

Chief O'Hara seemed to remember something. Beckoning one of the officers to follow him, he left the room.

Batgirl spoke up. "We haven't heard from Robin yet. Perhaps we should give him the chance to explain." Batman nodded his agreement.

Robin acted as if he was about to explode. "You bet I'll explain! The reason Mr. Dent is so riled up is because I discovered his sick, secret life."

"What on Earth do you mean?" asked the Commissioner.

"Last night, he painted himself gold and attended a party with Nimpans...and dancing."

"And there's more, isn't there, Harvey?" Batman turned his accusing gaze on the District Attorney. "Do you want to tell them…or should I?"

Harvey gritted his teeth. "Don't listen to him. Robin was probably acting on orders from Batman."

O'Hara and the officer returned, their arms full with two large boxes. "I've got the Penguin evidence you asked to review, Mr. Dent."

"Chief O'Hara," Batman said, "you were with me the day Marc Andrews described the phone calls from the Nimpans' mysterious benefactor."

"That's roight," the Chief recalled. "This 'Kent' fellow had the Nimpans runnin' around doing his biddin'."

"Earlier," Batman explained, "Vicki Vale heard the same name – 'Kent' – mentioned as an associate of the Nimpans who attacked her."

"Beggin' me pardon, but if we're lookin' for those with a motive to kill the Governor, the ruling government in Nimpah seems a fine candidate to me," said Chief O'Hara. "What if they sent over two assassins with instructions to make sure Governor Klintody met an early demoise?"

Dent shook his head. "Unlikely that two complete strangers to Gotham could pull this off."

O'Hara shrugged. "Well, who says it was just that wily pair? The Nimpan treasury wouldn't even miss the money it'd take to hire this trio of 'vagrants' to assist." He set his load down and departed to fetch another.

"A reasonable suspicion," Gordon agreed, "however, I'm struck by how many suspects of French extraction we have in this case: Cordy Bleau, Raoul, Frenchy…"

Batman nodded. "I consulted the Bat computer. Forty percent of all hits by the French underworld are attributable to a single cause. We checked, though, and it turns out Governor Klintody never said anything derogatory about Jerry Lewis."

"Who we know personally, by the way," said Robin.

Batman tried to steer the conversation back on track. "For a time, we assumed this 'Kent' character was the late reporter, Clark Kent. In fact, it turned out to be none other than …Harvey Dent."

Everyone stared at the District Attorney. "Yes, it's true," he said.

"Why go by two names?" asked Batgirl.

"Why not?" Dent said. "The difference is so minuscule…it isn't like anyone should be surprised Harvey Dent and Harvey Kent are one and the same."

"Hoa-What?" The returning Chief O'Hara stopped dead in his tracks and dropped his armload. Assorted evidence hit the floor with a crash.

"My last name was always Dent, as far as I was concerned, but when my Mom first showed me my birth certificate, the name was listed as 'Harvey Kent'. A simple typo by the registrar, she said. I never knew my Dad and my Mom never took Dad's name or said much about him. It was as if the name on the birth certificate was some other person - the son of this mysterious, globe-trotting father and Harvey Dent was the son raised in my mother's world. When I entered politics, I quietly had my name legally changed."

"Then why are you still using the name 'Kent?'" Robin asked.

"There are advantages to being Harvey Dent - prestige, respect and so on, but there are also a lot of downsides. I have massive responsibilities and a workload to match. In addition to the pressure of my job, there are the idiots who're always telling me how courageous I am for continuing on after my disfigurement."

Harvey dropped onto the Commissioner's couch. "Sometimes, it all gets to be too much. Those days, I walk out the door as Apollo Kent. Kent has no obligations and no responsibilities."

"Apollo?" asked Batgirl.

"I was nicknamed 'Apollo' before the accident. Now, with my face like this and my 'good' side going prematurely grey, the moniker's my own grim little joke."

"You didn't think the public had a right to know their District Attorney has multiple personalities?" the Commissioner asked.

"'Multiple personalities' implies I react differently depending on which name I'm using, which isn't the case. Kent is just an alias I use when I'm tired of thinking about the criminal justice system."

"Why were you sneaking off to that party last night?" asked Robin.

"Trying to use an alternate identity when half your face is grotesquely disfigured presents certain challenges. So, Apollo Kent is very partial to costume parties. And he favors costumes that conceal facial scars, such as Mercury, the Lone Ranger..."

"So, you were the one dealing with that duo from Nimpah?" Batgirl asked. "The Penguin's big argument with the Nimpans - you knew it would happen in advance?"

The District Attorney pulled at his collar. "I may have mentioned to them it was in the public's best interest to object to any trouble Cobblepot tried to create."

"Was it 'Apollo' who wanted that altercation," asked Batgirl, "or the District Attorney?"

"Sure, Kent's association with the Nimpans served Harvey Dent's ends to some extent, but Harvey Dent really didn't have anything to do with those two."

"On the one hand, you say it wasn't you orchestrating this stuff, but on the other hand you say you don't have a split personality! That sounds like like a bunch of hooey to me!" said Robin.

"How do you explain the phone call inquiring about a bi-plane the day of the assassination?" asked Batman.

The D.A.'s hand began to fiddle nervously with a coin. "I was trying to close off Cobblepot's escape routes out of town! A plane named 'The Vulture' seemed like a prime candidate."

Batman began to pace. "The Penguin was expected to be easily convicted, but the case seemed to completely unravel as soon as it began. Funny how the evidence against him just seemed to mysteriously vanish…"

"Are you accusing me of persecuting Cobblepot? Or deliberately letting him go free?" Dent said. "Make up your minds!"

"What we're saying is," said Batman, "if someone is framing Penguin, this would be an inopportune time for any secret double lives to come to light."

"You're concluding that a tiny name change makes me a suspect? That's crazy! Doctor Shivel used the spelling 'Shimmel' back in the homeland; does that make him a suspect?"

"Who else in your office can handle the State's case against the Penguin?" Commissioner Gordon asked.

"No one else is handling his case!" Dent bellowed. "I am going to prove Cobblepot killed the Governor and I am going to see him locked up as a result!"

"There's too much at stake," said the Commissioner. "Surely you agree it would be a miscarriage of justice were the Penguin to go free based upon your peculiar behavior rather than the merits of the case. As it now stands, I have little confidence that your actions won't be declared illegal sometime in the near future."

Dent had been grinding his teeth. "I've done nothing illegal. If you were really so committed to upholding the law, you'd have already arrested Robin!"

Without another word, he stomped from the room. Whatever other secrets he harbored would not be shared this day.


	17. Chapter 17

Late that afternoon, six figures gathered near the vacant swimming pool in an apartment complex courtyard. They pulled some plastic lawn chairs into a semi-circle and seated themselves.

Batgirl looked around at the somewhat rundown complex. "Why are we meeting here?"

"Our guests from The Daily Planet requested we not meet in Commissioner Gordon's office," replied Batman.

Lois nodded. "We need to keep this discussion amongst ourselves. We have some leads tying Commissioner Gordon to the Governor's murder."

Batgirl was clearly upset by the accusation. "The Commissioner? That's ridiculous! You've got to be joking!"

"Remember, he kept denying the existence of the vagrant trio, right up until we showed him photographic evidence," Lois said.

"No, he just said he didn't take anyone like that into custody. Commissioner Gordon did everything humanly possible to help track them down."

Lois paused before continuing. "We have a witness, Bill Chitt, who saw the Commissioner meet with the Penguin. They were discussing how to carry out the assassination. Mister Chitt also observed Gordon in secret meetings with Ruby Jones, to whom he gave the keys to Police Headquarters."

Batgirl was unimpressed. "So, you'd dismiss the Commissioner's decades of public service – not to mention your own previous experience with him – based on what? The word of someone we know nothing about? I have to say, I am very disappointed in you Lois. That tale is just ludicrous."

"Well, ludicrous or not, it cost Bill Chitt his life!" Lois revealed. "He was found in a laundromat, crushed to death by the machines."

"Holy Misadventure!" Robin exclaimed. "Death by Dishwasher!"

"You mean 'death by _clothes_ washer,'" said Lois.

Jimmy leaned over to Robin. "Don't feel bad. She corrects everybody."

"Actually, we do know a little about the late Mister Chitt," Batman said. "He was once temporarily transformed into an obedient zombie by Doctor Daka. Criminals swap all kinds of personal information. Perhaps Chitt's name came up when someone was looking for a surefire candidate for mind control. Potentially, that means everything he said to you was the product of hypnotic suggestion."

"Don't forget the Penguin has previously dabbled in mind control, too," said Batgirl. "He once took over the mind of Bruce Wayne's butler."

"True, and we have another suspect with mind control capabilities," Batman said. "Lou Cranek has resurrected his mind control machine; the same one he used years ago to try and stop Ms. Lane from testifying. I managed to put the foul device out of action for a while, but he may have been able to repair it."

Robin shook his head. "Our main reason, though, for linking Cranek to the crime was his goon, Mercury. Now we know he wasn't the Mercury we needed."

"No, Robin," Batman explained, "we've got more on Mister Cranek than that. I checked for possible connections between him and the Governor and came across something interesting. Initially, Cranek contributed heavily to Governor Klintody's re-election campaign, purely on the basis of the Governor's opposition to the Nimpan Maharaja's regime. Soon after his check was cashed, however, he learned Klintody was spotlighting organized crime as the main theme in his campaign. As illogical as it seems, Cranek felt he'd been betrayed."

"Well, if you're looking for mind control capabilities, why not look for people who've made a career out of it," asked Batgirl, "like a magician's assistant. I find it quite curious that Ruby Jones just pops up with nothing better to do than stalk the Penguin. She has a flimsy revenge story, but the obvious motive for wanting him dead is to shut him up. Then, as soon as Jones is captured, lo and behold, another evil magician's assistant surfaces, with her own questionable claim – Laura Lime and her engagement to Clark Kent."

Robin looked interested. "Clark Kent had a fiancé named Lorelei?"

"_Laura Lime_. She and Barry Brown convinced Clark to drink with them that night. Suppose they were playing some drinking game, like the old college game, 'What's In The Beaker?', and she have slipped him some poison?"

"I have to admit, I didn't believe that engagement story for a minute," said Lois. "Too many things she attributed to Clark didn't ring true at all."

"I dunno," said Robin. "I got a glimpse of her on the news, and she looked pretty sincere."

"I think the two ladies – Ruby Jones and Laura Lime – decided to team up and go into business for themselves," Batgirl said.

"But, gosh," said Jimmy, "this goes so much deeper than just ex-molls. Don't you see? Kellogg's cereal and their cronies in the Department of Health and Children wanted the Governor eliminated!"

"Kellogg's?" Vicki said. "Doesn't the company's roots trace back to a health retreat?"

"Well, from what I've heard, I think the so-called health retreat was really a training ground for Nimpan assassins!"

Robin looked at Batman to see if his mentor had the slightest idea about what the photographer was talking.

Jimmy was on a roll. "See, there's this whole elaborate chain of who-knows-who that leads straight from the Department of Health and Children over to the nocturnal demonology community. As soon as Klintody made those cuts to the Department of Health and Children, he was as good as dead! Think about it! Is this how you would have handled the security for the Governor's visit? I mean, only last month, Batgirl was nearly _killed_ in a deathtrap in this city. I'd have checked every building. I never would've let a man open an umbrella along the route, never would have allowed people with sack lunches."

"Young Olsen has gone mad," Batman whispered to his sidekick.

Vicki glanced quizzically at Lois, who did her part to move things along. "You haven't had your turn, Robin. Do you suspect anyone?"

"Heck, yes! It's District Attorney Dent! How more obvious could it be? He's been controlling that pair of Nimpans like marionettes. Not only did he let the Penguin go free after the most bungled case in legal history, but on the day of the Governor's death, he's making calls all around town asking about escape routes. That Daily Planet story about how the Governor wanted him fired sure hurt Harvey's clout at City Hall – probably killed his chances of ever moving up. He'd have reason to hold a grudge against both Clark Kent and the Governor for that."

Batman scanned the circle of faces. "Anyone else?"

Vicki Vale spoke up. "I'm leaning towards Doctor Shivel, myself. First, because he still has a chip on his shoulder over his past brushes with the law. Even after his cure, he may not be all that committed to living life on society's terms. Second, he doesn't make much of a secret of someday wanting to be governor. Plus, his wife sure hated Kent on account of that story about the Shivels lobbying the legislature.

Robin held out a palm bearing, apparently, his great wisdom. "Regardless of how he's treated us in his film, he is a highly respected member of the creative community. He's been reformed for years."

Batman considered this point. "True, but we apparently agree that Cobblepot is being framed, which used to happen to anyone standing in Mister Freeze's way."

"Usually, us!" Robin added. "At any rate, I should know more about Mister Kent's mysterious fiancée later tonight."

"Why?" asked Vicki.

"Because I'm going to offer her my help in finding the killer."

Batman said nothing.

Batgirl sighed. "It looks like we have more theories than masks."

"And none of them hinge on Oswald Cobblepot," said Vicki. "I'm going to title my piece for tomorrow, Many Theories, Few Answers."

"Funny," said Lois. "That's the headline I already wrote down on this page of my notebook."

"So, you're saying I stole your headline?"

"Oh, please, Vicki. You've been copying me your entire career!"

Seeing the two journalists' hands form into fists, Batgirl quickly stepped between them. "Okay, meeting adjourned!"

Late that night, an elevator carried two figures to the fifth floor of the Gotham Hotel. Laura Lime, followed by Robin, the Boy Wonder made their way towards room 579.

"I can't thank you enough for this. I couldn't stand going back in there alone."

Her key was barely halfway into the lock when the door swung open, throwing a shaft of light into the darkened interior. Robin followed Laura as she made her way towards Kent's bedroom.

"Clark, why didn't you listen?" Laura muttered. "I told him we needed to call the front desk and get that door lock taken care of."

"This is where he died," she said as they reached the bedroom. "Where did all the sheets from his bed go?" Robin walked around the hotel suite. "Here, in the bathtub."

"The Commissioner said they didn't want the crime scene disturbed. Why would they throw the sheets in another room?"

Robin pointed. "Look - the window's open. Maybe someone snuck in here right before us. Maybe they were worried they left something behind amongst the sheets. But anyone could have gotten past that broken door lock, so the open window means either they didn't know about the lock – or they couldn't risk being seen going through the lobby."

Lime began looking through the drawers of the bedside table. Robin looked under the bed. He studied the short green rug covering the floor. Underneath the rug, he discovered a series of shiny green dots winking back at him. They were clearly drops that had dried over the course of several days.

"What did that poison look like?"

"It was a weird, fluorescent, green color."

"Like this?"

Laura gasped as she saw the tiny string of spots on the floor. "How did it get splashed around like that?"

Robin rubbed his chin. "You know what I think? I think that poison didn't go down willingly."

"You mean . . . someone forced it down his throat? He was overpowered?"

"Right. Or maybe he was forced to drink it at gunpoint and his hand was shaking."

"Maybe this is what whoever broke in was looking for."

"Those drops wouldn't still be here if anyone had looked for them. I think we should do some more snooping around."

Lime returned to the living room and turned on the overhead light. Her gaze landed on the bare bureau top.

"Wait a minute!" she exclaimed. "What happened to Clark's traveler's checks? The police left them just sitting there."

"How much were they worth?" Robin called from the bedroom.

"Four thousand dollars -- enough for someone to want to come back and steal them."

"Ms. Lime, was there any drinking going on in the bedroom that night?"

"No. Clark only had one drink out there with Barry - just to be polite."

"Then why is there an open bottle of Scotch in here?"

Laura walked to the bedroom and smiled at Robin. "Feel free to have a few shots. No reason we can't have a little fun while we're up here."

Robin glared disapprovingly at the senses-dulling refreshment. "With all due respect, ma'am, I don't think so."

"Aww, you're no fun."

Laura turned and returned to the living room. She was puzzled by the sight of the phone receiver lying off the hook on the coffee table. She slowly picked it up and held it to her ear. There was no dial tone, but she did hear the faint sound of someone breathing on the other end of the line, and it occurred to her she had just become part of an unfinished phone call. Robin emerged from the bedroom and noticed the concerned expression on her face.

"I think someone might still be in here" she whispered, looking around.

Robin turned towards an open coat closet to his right, just as a fist shot from its depths and punched him in the gut. His attacker fairly exploded out of the closet. Laura watched as a tall figure, hidden under a hat and overcoat, body-blocked the youthful crimefighter out of the way and made for the door.

"Just a minute," she growled. She leaped at the figure, and her outstretched hands managed to snag a pants leg.

The figure fell flat on his face, but immediately yanked the leg free. Seizing the doorknob, the intruder pulled himself up and disappeared through the doorway.

Laura heard the sound of a metal door banging open against a concrete wall.

"They're taking the stairs!" Laura said. "You go after them and I'll try to head them off in the elevator!"

Since he was still trying to catch his breath, Robin only nodded in agreement, but went sprinting for the door to the stairwell. Laura split off in the opposite direction and slapped the elevator "down" button.

Robin heard his attacker's footsteps about two stories down in the stairwell. He took the first five steps in one leap, and took all the rest three at a time.

Through the wall, Robin could heard the elevator go past, and thought it sounded like it was moving faster than usual. Then he heard Laura's scream and realized something was horribly wrong.

An ear-splitting crash from the bottom of the elevator shaft drowned out the sound of his opponent's footsteps on the staircase.

Robin burst out of the stairwell into the lobby. An alarmed crowd was rapidly heading towards the bank of elevators, but the person in the overcoat was nowhere to be seen amongst them. Dust sifted from the cracks in the elevator doors.

Cursing himself for allowing Lime to race off on her own, Robin angrily punched the door. Another person closely connected to the case was suddenly dead and he wondered who would be next.


	18. Chapter 18

The loss of Laura Lime consumed the next day's news broadcasts. Barbara Gordon saw Barry Brown, Vicki Vale and Lois Lane all being interviewed on air, providing predictions on what this development boded for the Penguin's upcoming trial.

Despite the inherent dangers, super villain trials tended to draw large crowds, and this one was no exception. At 7:58 a.m. the following morning, the spectator gallery was empty. By 8:03, shortly after the doors opened to the public, it was completely full.

The clamor of excited voices quieted as a bailiff announced the arrival of the judge. The judge entered without acknowledging the crowd, and everyone sensed the proceedings would be run with an iron hand.

Lucky Pierre and his client were already seated on the left side of the chamber. District Attorney Harvey Dent was on the right. Getting preliminary motions out of the way, the judge directed Dent to make his opening statement.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, despite all the wild theories floating around on the airwaves, the Governor's murderer is already in custody – and that killer is Oswald Cobblepot, popularly known as the Penguin. I expect that not most, but _all _of evidence presented to you here will show that Oswald alone killed Jefferson Klintody.

"For the facts paint a very disturbing picture of Oswald – a greedy, criminal, a constantly-thwarted schemer. If we put aside all the hypothetical notions and just look at the facts, what do we have? A man who previously tried to make himself mayor by rigging an election, a man who sought employment at a building along the motorcade route only days before the assassination, and who was then seen smuggling an umbrella into the library. Within minutes of the assassination, an recently-fired umbrella gun of a type known to be carried by Mr. Cobblepot – and only Mr. Cobblepot - was found hidden in the ceiling of the Gotham Central Library. At that moment, the presence of all library employees were accounted for, except for Mr. Cobblepot. And shortly afterwards, the missing master of fowl play turned up attempting to conceal himself in a movie theater."

"It seems that some costumed vigilantes are ready to accept Mister Cobblepot's claim that he is just an innocent patsy. Why an individual with such a well-documented history of telling anything _but_ the truth would be believed now is beyond me. One wonders what manner of story this oily bird would have to concoct for it to be regarded as farfetched."

"There isn't a single piece of evidence to suggest that anyone besides Oswald was responsible for this killing. If there was someone else, who was it? How did they make their way into the library with an umbrella gun, shoot the Governor, and then escape without being seen? I am fully confident that you jurors are intelligent enough to review the facts and deliver a swift verdict of guilty in this case."

Glaring pointedly at the Caped Crusaders, Dent took his seat.

"We will now hear the opening statement for the defense."

Depressed that his romantic aspirations toward Ms. Lime had not panned out, Lucky Pierre had drowned his sorrows into the wee hours the previous evening. He was set now with only his fallback response.

"Your Honor, Defense waives opening–"

He stopped in mid-sentence as his client suddenly stood.

The Penguin raised an arm as if calling a meeting to order. "In the immortal words of Henk Sneevliet - 'Ik beschuldigt!'"

"What?" said the judge. "_You _accuse?!"

Sitting in the front row, Batman and Robin both slapped their hands to their heads.

The Penguin pointed at Harvey Dent. Courtroom cameras dutifully zoomed in on the district attorney as Cobblepot continued. "Yes. Loathe though I am to point the finger of blame, I must remind you that he and I were here less than six months ago. The man simply cannot accept my innocence, though it is plainly evident to the rest of the planet. I fear our District Attorney is quite mad. With one-half of his brain he fabricates evidence, then he convinces the other half that it is true."

The D.A. wearily raised his hand. "Your Honor, why are we listening to this? The accused already has chosen counsel to represent him."

The Penguin waved a hand contemptuously at Dent. "I fear that this gentleman's moral convictions have stayed in step with his rate of convictions - both are sadly lacking."

Cobblepot's attorney grabbed his sleeve. "Listen to me, didn't I get you exonerated the last time you were on trial?"

"Certainly, sir . . . and a fine job it was, although my innocence spoke for itself."

"Exactly – so _you_ won't have to do any speaking at all."

"Prosecution will call its first witness," said the judge.

Batman raised his hand. "Your Honor, if I may…?"

"The Court recognizes the Caped Crusader."

"Robin and I have amassed a wealth of information about this case – information vital to the jury for it to render a fair verdict. I respectfully ask you allow us a role in these proceedings. I must admit, I cannot in good conscience collaborate with the prosecutor in this instance."

"Do you wish to represent Mr. Cobblepot?"

"No, your Honor. I wish to represent Truth, Justice and the American Way!"

"Objection!" Dent declared. "He can't use that line!"

Lucky Pierre nodded. "Yeah, _I'm_ representing Truth, Justice and the American Way!"

Dent whirled. "No, you aren't! I'm 'the People!'"

The judge banged his gavel. "Order!" He rubbed his forehead, momentarily torn. "This is highly irregular, Batman."

The room breathlessly awaited his decision. After a moment, the judge looked up.

"Very well. Let the record show that, henceforth, this case shall be known as The People vs. Cobblepot vs. Batman."

The jurors glanced uneasily at each other, sensing the trial might conclude with unusually complex judge's instructions.

Batman walked across the courtroom and disappeared through the door from where the judge had emerged. A moment later, he re-appeared, carrying a folded card table. He carefully opened all four legs, then placed the table on a spot off to the right of the judge's bench.

Jimmy and Lois watched with interest from the courtroom gallery. CLICK! Jimmy's camera captured the scene of precedent-setting seating configuration.

"Batman, do you have an opening statement?" asked the judge.

"I do, your Honor. Members of the jury, none of us will ever forget where we were the moment Governor Klintody was taken from us. I wish I could, because instead of protecting the leader of our state, I chose to go see a particularly wretched attempt at filmmaking. I am not convinced justice will be served by locking Mister Cobblepot up.

"What really happened that fateful day? We have a smattering of clues to go by: an oddly broken tree limb along the motorcade route, onlooker William Wumpington's forehead gash, seven flecks of dried clay on a rooftop – clay identical to the sort found around the edge of the utility shed in the thicket.

"From these clues, I was able to surmise the following: on the day in question, five armed men rendezvoused outside Weekly Square. A man approximately five feet, eleven inches in height moved to the edge of the leafy thicket. A second gunman, wearing a healthy application of Salty Dog cologne, snuck into the STD building through the freight entrance on Bowie Street. A man walking with a slight limp (caused by an exceptionally full bladder) entered the GothCyt Building and entered the elevator.

"Holding his umbrella high on this cloudless afternoon, a fourth team member stood near the Persimmons Overpass. A fifth man, dressed as a policeman, stationed himself in the crowd along Oak Avenue. He would soon confuse eyewitnesses by passing on bad information, and also provide escort for the gunmen from the thicket.

"At 2:20 p.m., a volley of shots rang out as the Governor passed the Persimmons Overpasss sign. We know there three shots hit the Governor, but from what direction were they fired? The first, from roof of the GothCyt building; the second, from a retaining wall bordering the leafy thicket; the third, from the second floor of the STD building. And there was a fourth shot, which ricocheted off a curb and shattered a piece of concrete that struck Mr. Wumpington in the face.

"Beyond these paltry observances, I can say little. It is my hope that over the course of this trial, I can help lead you to discover the true parties responsible for this crime. Thank you."

At the prosecution table, Harvey Dent tapped his fingers impatiently. He heard Lucky Pierre address the judge.

"Your Honor, with three parties, how are we to determine the order of witnesses?"

Dent stood. "Wait, the prosecution is supposed to go first."

"Now, I want you to keep an open mind here, Harvey," the judge replied. "I feel like pushing the envelope a little bit."

The judge thought for a moment. "Why don't each of you pick a number between one and ten?"

"Two," Pierre answered.

"That's my number," Dent complained. "I was about to pick that!"

"Okay, you can pick next, Harvey," the judge said.

"Two is _my_ number. The defense didn't wait to be called upon."

Lucky Pierre turned in his seat. "Quit being a baby."

"By the Code of Civil Procedure, the prosecution gets to call its witnesses first!" Harvey snarled. "If I don't get the number two, I'll drop all the charges and it will be on your head that the Governor's assassin is set free!"

"Sounds good to me!" said the Penguin, as he got up and headed for the swinging doors to the gallery.

"Sit down, Mr. Cobblepot!" the judge ordered. He rubbed his forehead. "Pierre, would you mind picking another number?"

"Fine. I'll pick six."

"Batman?" The judge pointed to the Caped Crusader.

"Your Honor, as the side representing the reasonable middle ground, I will choose four."

"The number I was thinking of was nine, so defense, you will call your witnesses first."

The District Attorney looked like he was going to object, but opted for fuming in silence. Batman remained impassive.

Lucky Pierre smiled triumphantly, then spoke. "You Honor, for my first witness, I would like to call to the stand…Lurch."

The spectators in the courtroom gasped as a seven foot tall man with a pale, dead expression lumbered slowly up to the bench.

His voice was slower than molasses and several octaves lower than a foghorn. "Youuu Rrannng?"

"I certainly am," Judge Roy Rang replied, "and we are glad you could join us, Mister Lurch. Please take the stand."

Rising from his seat, Lucky Pierre sauntered past the giant. "Now, then, Mister Lurch, several years ago, you and your employers rented a suite on the floor directly underneath Mister Cobblepot's restaurant, the Penguin's Nest. How would you describe your stay there?"

"Uhhuhhhuhhuhh." The giant put his hand to his face.

"As the person whose ears were closest to the ceiling, you were in a position to overhear anything transpiring on the floor above you. Did you ever hear anything out of the ordinary?"

"Uhuhhhhuhh." The giant shook his head.

"Did you notice anything illegal about Mister Cobblepot's restaurant?"

"Uhhuuhhhuhh," the giant groaned.

(Although Lucky Pierre would call thirteen more witnesses to testify in Cobblepot's defense, observers agreed Lurch's statements went the furthest in defending the Penguin's character.)

Vicki Vale sat in the courtroom gallery, thinking of happier times. Her mind kept getting sidetracked by memories of Governor Klintody. She felt a tear coming on, and suddenly realized she hadn't heard a word of the Black Dog Man's testimony. Scolding herself, she busily alternated between snapping pictures and taking copious notes for the elderly animal lover's remaining time on the stand.

During a tedious round of legal wrangling, Vicki took a long look around the spectators' gallery. Her eyes settled on a swarthy looking figure with a long scar down his cheek.

"_Eladinga__ The Nimpan who caught me eavesdropping on his call with Harvey Dent! He must have been called to testify about Cobblepot's behavior at the library_," she thought.

He noticed her staring at him and tugged the brim of his hat down. She waited, and a minute later, he peeked up to catch her still scrutinizing him. With that, he rose to his feet and quietly left the courtroom. Vicki stayed put for the moment.

"_He's probably waiting to see if I'll be right behind him_," she thought. "_I can go up three flights to the roof and get a clear view of whichever direction he takes on leaving the building_."

**Notes: **

"Truth, Justice, and the American Way" was the original title of "Hollywoodland" before threatened legal action by Warner Bros prompted a change

**The close proximity of the Addam's family butler to the Penguin's restaurant was documented in the Batman episode "The Penguin's Nest". Strangely, actor Ted "Lurch" Cassidy was working as a reporter in Daley Plaza on November 22, 1963. Law enforcement authorities 'forgot' to investigate this connection.**


	19. Chapter 19

_Chapter note: Although no known recording exist of conspirators discussing a plot to kill JFK, we know any such recording would have matched the dictaphone recording contained in this chapter, since it matches the developments depicted in the film _JFK_ in every detail_

Lucky Pierre's witnesses came and went, each stating - usually reluctantly - that they had not seen Cobblepot pull the trigger. Following the defense, Batman was allowed to call his own set of witnesses. First up was wealthy collector Marc Andrews.

"You were present for the prosecution's opening statement. Was the voice of your mysterious caller the same as District Attorney Dent's?" Batman asked.

"Oh, I suppose it could have been. I wouldn't swear to it, though."

"Did your contact ever give any clues as to his identity?"

"Not a one."

"When he purchased the Penguin statue, how did he pay for it?"

"With a check."

"Whose name was pre-printed on the check?"

"Harvey Dent." A look of enlightenment crossed Andrew's features. "Sayyy! That was a clue, wasn't it?"

"No further questions."

There was a sudden buzz of mumbling from the spectators behind the District Attorney.

"Witness is excused," said Judge Rang. He looked at Batman. "I have to go down the hall for a moment, but this is going so well, I don't want to hold things up. Can you sit in for me for a few minutes?"

"Certainly, your Honor."

"What?" Dent sprang to his feet. "He can't be the judge, too! I object!!"

"Overruled!" the judge said angrily. "Now, sit down, Harvey, or I'll hold you in contempt!"

Dent's face became so contorted with rage, for the first time in years the two halves almost matched.

"I'm a big fan of yours," the judge whispered as he allowed Batman to take his seat.

From the judge's chair, Batman picked up where he had left off. "I now call to the stand, Lois–"

"Just a moment!"

Batman halted in mid-sentence. Everyone turned in their seats to see Batgirl walking down the aisle. Some tiny, reel-to-reel tapes were clutched in her hand.

"Batman, I've spent the last two days reviewing dictaphone tapes of the week before the assassination. I have one I think you'll want to hear."

"Objection!" said the District Attorney. "The source of this tape hasn't been established."

"It came from Chief O'Hara's dictaphone belt," Batgirl replied.

"Why doesn't the Chief testify himself?" demanded the D.A..

"I'm not sure he was conscious during the recording."

"He was knocked out?" asked Batman.

"Something like that. He was on a park bench near the leafy thicket. Apparently, his body pressed the record button when he fell to a horizontal position."

"I'm going to rule the tape is admissible," Batman said.

Batgirl produced a miniature tape recorder, placed the tape in it, set the recorder in front of a microphone and hit 'play.'

Out of the speakers blared a deep snoring sound, which echoed around the courtroom. The audience began to titter as the snarks and snorts continued. They gradually died down and a faint pair of voices could be heard, slowly becoming more distinct as the two apparently approached the spot of the recording.

"Are you sure no one can hear us?" said one voice.

A second voice snickered. "It's well past Gotham City's bedtime. Just think, fifteen hours from now, this empty park will be filled with people, all getting one last look at unfortunate Governor Klintody."

In the gallery, Lois tugged on Jimmy's arm. "That first voice - I know where I've heard it before!"

"Where?"

"It's the man at the airport who offered to arrange a meeting with Raoul for me." She turned her attention back to the recording.

"Now, we've got too many people who know about our plot," the first recorded voice was saying. "This Steven Martin may go to the police about Bannister slapping him around."

"Oh, he'll go to the police . . . and he will tell them he was beaten up . . . but he won't reveal any of our plan."

"Okay, let me stop you there. If you think he's going to the police, that suggests a risk. He should be eliminated."

Voice number two chuckled. "I can assure you, that won't be necessary."

"But he's spent so much time with Banister…"

"Who will have to die."

"Banister's one of us!"

"Sorry. Has to go."

"Let's stop and think about this. We're killing Banister…and we're leaving Martin alive. Is that right?"

"Yes, it is."

"Fine. Be Mister Unpredictable if you want." The voice made an exasperated exhaling sound.

"Now you're sure everything will be in place tomorrow?"

"Yes, I've got this man named Cordy Bleau. He grew up in a hunting family, you see, and they were too poor to buy many bullets. So the first thing his Dad taught him to do was chase and retrieve shots that missed the target. I've got him all set to watch for any bullets shot from the leafy thicket. Those will be coming from the completely opposite direction from the library, so it might be hard to get people to believe Cobblepot fired them. Bleau will run around and pick them up before they can be discovered."

"Then, later that night, I'll plant _this_ bullet on Klintody's stretcher, which will become the 'official' bullet."

"But that bullet hasn't even been fired. It's pristine. You just pulled it fresh out of the box."

After a pause, there followed the sound of something small and metallic being tossed against a tree.

"There. _Now_ it's been fired."

"Since they're kind of hard to explain, we should set a limit on how many bullets get fired from the thicket. Say, no more than five shots?"

"That should be enough, even if everything goes wrong at the other snipers' nests."

"Klintody'll probably wind up getting hit with enough bullets to kill him and all his ancestors."

"No one's going to question even twenty-five bullet holes. Everyone knows the Penguin is just bloodthirsty enough to shoot someone that many times."

"I've been thinking. It would help confuse the medical evidence if we could have our snipers try to hit him in the precise same spot on his body at the exact same time."

"Well, the snipers are being paid well enough. That sounds like a reasonable request to me."

"Did we figure out where they should park beforehand?"

"Ehh, just have them park the truck on Oak Street overlooking Weekly Plaza."

"That's a really busy stretch of road - where there's no parking spaces. They'd have to pull the truck up on the shoulder."

"Fine. That's a nice centralized point, so they can just lug their rifles down from there. There'll be plenty of motorists passing, so tell them to maintain friendly expressions."

"You know, we really won't need this many shooters."

"This is too important to leave anything to chance."

"Every extra shooter is just one more chance for one of us to get caught and the whole plot exposed. Klintody's already going to be a sitting duck"

"No can do. We'll need at least 3 people shooting from different directions in order to pin the deed on Cobblepot."

"Now, how do we ensure Oswald stays out of sight during the assassination?"

"To be honest, I've got plenty to keep track of already."

"Wh…what would you suggest we do if he happens strike up a conversation right while the shooting is going on? He'd have an iron clad alibi for his whereabouts!"

"You really have a knack for worrying about trivial minutia, don't you? Look at how many things we have to do. We still have to arrange to have those damning press releases about Cobblepot distributed worldwide the moment the shooting occurs."

"Make sure the press release gets to the New Zealand media first. Above all else, _we cannot risk the intervention of the __New Zealand__ military._"

"We wouldn't have to deal with any of this if the Governor's plane had crashed like it was supposed to."

"I still can't understand why that didn't work."

The snoring sound suddenly resumed, sounding like a muffled chainsaw over the microphone. It drowned out whatever else the two conspirators had to say. Batgirl switched the recorder off, ending the presentation.

She turned to the jury. "So, as you heard, the killers were calculating and meticulous in executing their plot, with nothing left to chance."

Vicki Vale tailed the mysterious Eladinga through the city. Twice Vicki saw enough of a profile to take a photo, but only one yielded decent results. As the early evening light began to fade, the photojournalist began to wonder how much longer she'd be able to distinguish him from rush-hour commuters.

She saw Eladinga enter a phone booth and closed the door. Vale pretended to study a street sign nearby, but this forced her to keep her back to the booth. She knew that moving close enough to eavesdrop would be too risky. However, it soon occurred to her that she should still be able to hear at least a hint of a voice, considering her proximity. She strolled in a wide circle to view the front of the phone booth. The door hung open; the booth was empty.

She stopped the first passer-by she came across. "Did you see a Nimpan man with a scar pass by here in the last few minutes?"

"Sorry, ma'am." He shook his head.

She puzzled over which direction to search for the elusive Nimpan. She stopped and slapped her forehead.

"_That bystander looked and sounded very familiar! He looked just like that old villain, the Wizard! And he looked quite a bit like Eladinga, too!"_ she thought. "_Come to think of it, I wound up with brownish paint on my hands the last time I tussled with him. I thought it was paint from a truck, but it was really just makeup. I'd say 'Eladinga' isn't Nimpan at all_!"

She caught view of the uninformative bystander heading off around a corner. She trailed his white jacket from a distance. After a minute, she came upon Eladinga's hat protruding from a trash can, and a minute later, his jacket turned up, draped over a fire hydrant. A few seconds later, she found a Luger pointed at her.

"Zat is far enough," said a familiar voice.


	20. Chapter 20

_Chapter Notes: Numerous references below to the George Reeves and Marilyn Monroe deaths. Also, I updated the image page to the story_

Following Judge Rang's return to the bench, Batman called Lois Lane to the stand.

"Bill Chitt is beyond testifying now," he said. "victim of a bizarre accident. How would you rate your expertise on the Bill Chitt/Ruby Jones relationship?"

"I can't say for sure, but my impression was he went out of his way to contact us at The Daily Planet because he hadn't told anyone else."

"Did you investigate Mister Chitt's history with super-villains prior to interviewing him?"

"No, but after his demise, I found he once unwillingly served as a mind-controlled zombie."

"In your interview, did his observations point the finger of suspicion towards anyone in particular?"

"Mainly towards Commissioner Gordon. Gordon was observed with Ruby Jones several times."

"Chitt was introduced to the Commissioner by name?"

"No, he recognized the suspect as someone who would be the Commissioner's twin if you took away the glasses and mustache."

Batman turned to Judge Rang. "At this time, I would like to introduce into evidence the visual image of the actor portraying Commissioner Gordon in the film Chilled Scientist, along with an image of the same actor without the mustache and glasses."

"Ms. Lane," Batman asked, "is it possible that Mister Chitt, given his penchant for being brainwashed, could have actually seen this face talking to Ms. Jones?"

Lois Lane frowned. "I don't see how. This fellow can't be more than thirty-five, but Chitt described the individual as an old man. He quoted Ruby Jones as referring to him as an 'old man.'"

"That's because she was referring to him by name!" Batman turned triumphantly to the jury. "This actor's name is Gerald Oldmunn and he lives in the same apartment building as Ruby Jones . . . on the very same floor! Makeup and facial hair allowed him to play the part of an older Gordon for Shivel's film."

"Yes," Lois conceded, "if Chitt's statements were coerced through mind control, I could believe Chitt mixing up the screen James Gordon with the actual one."

In the spectator gallery, Batgirl patted the real Commissioner on the shoulder.

Batman continued. "Concerning the Daily Planet reporter who interviewed Ruby, could you share how you learned of Clark Kent's death?"

"It was in the middle of the night – a call from Rosemarie Shivel. She hinted that something terrible had happened, but was too distraught to go into details."

"From where was she calling?"

"I assume from her home. I heard a bottle being set down…and a dog barking."

"What was the last story you were working on prior to being assigned to cover Governor Klintody's state tour?"

"I was preparing to interview several women who claim Doctor Shivel groped them at a showbiz party."

"Thank you, Ms. Lane. No further questions."

"Great job, Miss Lane!" Jimmy said as she returned to her seat.

"Thanks, Jimmy. I hope you got some nice shots of me, because Vicki Vale won't select any good ones for her story."

"Miss Vale isn't even here. She left a long time ago."

"Hmmm. I wonder what she knows that we don't. Let's go see what's up – I need a breath of fresh air, anyway."

The two strolled out into the hallway and then, finding nothing of interest, to the street in front of the courthouse.

Lois looked around. "Must've been something so important she couldn't stick around."

"Maybe she got a lead on the Vagrant Trio."

"Hey, let me see that photo of those three again."

Jimmy obediently fished a copy of the photo from his portfolio. By this time, however, it was too late in the evening to rely on the Gotham City sky for illumination.

Lois tried adjusting the distance from the picture to her eyeballs. "Tsk. Do you have a light with you?"

"Sure." Jimmy helpfully lit a match and held it next to the picture. Three sets of sullen features stood out on the paper.

"Oh my gosh!" Lois said. "That reminds me where we've run into Frenchy before! Come on!"

"What reminds you?" Jimmy said, shaking out the match.

Lois hailed a passing cab. "I'll explain on the way."

(Bat Spin)

In the courtroom, Batman pressed on with his case. "For my next witness, I call to the stand…Ms. Rosemarie Shivel."

Ms. Shivel was in the process of placing a mint in her mouth, and her jaw hung open for a long moment upon hearing her name. Despite her protests, the bailiff escorted her up to the witness stand.

"You've nothing about which to be uneasy, Ms. Shivel," Batman assured her, pacing around like a cat preparing to pounce. "Would you please tell us how you first learned of Mister Kent's death?"

"I heard it on the news. I don't remember which station."

"Interesting . . . but that news was not broadcast on any station until the morning following his death, well past the time you called Ms. Lane."

"Maybe she got her dates mixed up."

"She was present at the crime scene by morning, so that is unlikely. For some reason that you cannot explain, you knew of the death well before everyone else."

Batman let that thought hang in the air for a moment. "Nevertheless, we will move on. Ms. Lane said that she heard a dog barking in the background during your late-night phone call. Yet on your penultimate broadcast before leaving the Reeves & West television program, you mentioned you were allergic to all dogs."

"Well, being allergic to dogs doesn't make me evil."

"Objection! Conjecture!" said Lucky Pierre.

"Sustained." Judge Rang turned to the witness. "Please refrain from airing your personal views here, Mrs. Freeze."

She stiffened. "My last name is…Shivel!"

"Now, let's not get emotional," admonished the judge.

Batman stopped pacing and leaned in towards the witness. "Isn't it true, Ms. Shivel, that the dog with you during that call was the same dog stolen from Mister Kent's residence a week earlier?"

"I don't know anything about that," she protested, squirming in her seat.

(Bat Spin)

"So sad it had to come to this," Doctor Shivel said as he motioned Vicki Vale into a cluttered room.

He and the white-jacketed man had forced her at gunpoint to climb the rear stairwell of a building and traipse down a corridor. As they entered, a large bear of a man looked up from the bed on which he was reclining.

"Allow me to introduce herr Frenchy. The Penguin knew him by ze name 'Raoul,' by the vay . . . und over here we have Mister Wizard, whom you seem to enjoy following." Shivel gestured at the white-jacketed man who'd masqueraded as Eladinga, as well as playing the mustached man Lois met at the airport.

"Greetings, Ms. Vale," the Wizard gloated. "I trust my fledging disguise efforts meet with your approval?"

"The Wizard - of course!" said Vale. "You're the one with the remote control machine that can manipulate devices. The mysterious deaths in the elevator and laundromat were your doing!"

The Wizard said nothing.

"Everyzing you could have had," Shivel said, shaking his head, "fame, fortune, my unconditional luffh."

"I told you, Otold, our 'unconditional luffh' just wasn't meant to be," Vicki answered. "Anyway, what would have become of your new wife? Would she have quickly wound up in a car accident?"

"Nein, Nein, an open relationship with my wife and I have." Shivel began absentmindedly playing with his bushy eyebrows. "You just had to go and humiliate me, enh? To degrade yourself by slinking around with that schwein Governor."

"I wasn't slinking. Unlike you, _he_ wasn't married. Also, he didn't live for world domination."

Frenchy turned off his TV show so he could give the ongoing melodrama his full attention.

"Come, come . . . within the month, I vill be fairly elected to public office."

"Yes. I never did believe your refusal to run for governor. Why did you bother denying it on television?"

Shivel twirled his eyebrows. "Ach, it is all about creating a demand, my dear. If I say that I am running, some people will be very mad because of my criminal past. I will not be able to discuss anyzeng else because all the time the question will be 'Otold, do not these people deserve to be heard? How do you answer their anger concerning your past deeds?' Vell, vot do I say? 'I would very much like to answer their anger - with zero degree freeze blasts!' Bot! If I say I am not running, then all you will hear is people who wish I did run. 'Oh, isn't it terrible that Otold cannot run. Let us change ze election laws so he vill think about running again.'"

"We don't have time to relive this entire relationship right now," the Wizard said, shifting from foot to foot.

"A relationship too exquisite to be derided by you, Vizard!" Shivel said. "But you are correct – all beautiful things must come to an end."

"Let me guess," said Vicki. "I'm about to have a fatal blender accident."

"No, my dear. Poison," Shivel informed her.

"So, you'll make it look like _all_ the journalists with a connection to this case suddenly decided to commit suicide? Gotham City's police may be a little inept, but they're not going to buy that!"

"Ah, you are quite right. Clearly, ze only way out of zis regrettable situation is if you die 'unintentionally,' through some personal practice so unpleasant your journalist friends vill be too unsettled to cover it in detail."

"And, when we're done, we'll take your corpse back to your place," the Wizard said, "and leave it lying in your bed."

"Some people saw you escorting me in here," she said. "Someone must have recognized either or both of us, Otold."

"Of zat we have already thought. While you lay beautifully dead, we shall make several phone calls to Governor Klintody's office on your phone. No one will be there to answer, of course, but ze phone record will establish to ze police you were still alive and distraught over your dead lover all evening, and only took the poison hours later."

"Well, you can wave that gun around all you want, but I'm not going to open my mouth for it!"

"It is not going in your mouth."

Shivel and the Wizard both broke out in maniacal laughter.


	21. Chapter 21

_Notes: Screen Mister Freezes have an established track record with exotic television personalities. Arnold_ _Schwarzenegger's romance with broadcaster Maria Shriver was eerily foreshadowed by Otto Preminger's romance with Gypsy Lee Rose (who also had her own talk show.) _

_A review of the faces in the photo gallery may help the reader confirm the extent of the Wizard's deceptions involving disguise._

"Frenchy, why not turn the TV on, with the volume good and loud," the Wizard suggested.

The henchman clicked on the television. Onto the screen flashed the Cobblepot trial, with Shivel's spouse on the stand.

They watched as Batman continued to question Ms. Shivel. "How long have you and your husband been interested in films?"

"I…think as long as we've known each other."

"What was the first film to which he took you?"

She thought hard. "From Beer to Maternity."

"Odd. That film came out while Doctor Shivel was still married to his first wife. Were you two having an affair?"

"Schmerz im ansatz!" Otold shouted at the TV screen.

"Oh, this is not good," agreed the Wizard.

Batman continued. "Was Carter…AKA, the Wizard, a guest at your wedding?"

"Objection!" Harvey Dent said, holding up a hand. "Badgering the witness, immaterial line of questioning…"

Judge Rang mulled this over. "Could you explain the relevance, Batman?"

"I would be delighted, Your Honor. As Mister Freeze, Otold Shivel had a track record of becoming infatuated with any pretty face he saw. He would then refuse to let anything stand between him and the object of his desire. Such was the case on the day he met the former Rosemarie Shripsvy - he was instantly enthralled.

"Shivel first contacted the Wizard because he was in love with Rosemarie and wanted out of his strained marriage to Sarah. He knew the Wizard's remote control machine could get her out of his way while making the car crash appear accidental.

"Following the elimination of poor Sarah, he enlisted the Wizard in an even bigger scheme: the assassination of Governor Klintody. Shivel craved political power and its accompanying opportunities for payola. Although his movie career was off to a surprisingly good start, he realized that showbiz fame is fleeting and no amount of public adulation would enable him to withstand scrutiny during a drawn-out campaign. His only hope was to create a vacancy in the job amidst total chaos, slide by on name-recognition alone and swiftly fill the sudden vacuum of power.

"Shivel knew the Nimpan civil war controversy could be twisted to his advantage, but neither he nor the Wizard was able to recruit anyone from the local Nimpan community. The Wizard, however, remembered his old cellmate, William Johnson, who excelled at disguise. They tracked Johnson down in Metropolis, where he was still plying his unlawful trade. Voila! Thanks to Johnson's makeup kit, they had their two Nimpans.

"They originally thought they could pin the assassination on Lou Cranek, whose hatred for Klintody was well known. Posing as Nimpan intelligence operatives sent by the Maharaja, the Wizard and Johnson approached Harvey Dent, and convinced him they could help him nail Cranek.

"Once he learned the Penguin was in custody and about to go to trial, however, Shivel announced they'd found themselves the ideal patsy. Taking advantage of their access to Dent, they arranged for evidence against the Penguin to mysteriously vanish from the department's evidence room. As a result, the Penguin was pronounced innocent and set free. Acting on information purchased from former Penguin henchman Cordy Bleu, the Wizard convinced Dent to buy Marc Andrew's Penguin statue-map. With the map, he was then able to loot the unsuspecting bird bandit's hideouts, leaving him destitute.

"By circulating rumors that Cobblepot had avoided jail time by becoming an informant for Dent, the Wizard insured that Oswald would be a pariah in the underworld, unable to receive help from any of his old friends. Through Bleau, they hired Frenchy to play the role of Penguin's advisor/employer 'Raoul.' Cobblepot was carefully steered towards the clerical library job, which lay right along Klintody's limousine route. As the critical hour approached, they had arranged that all suspicion would point to Cobblepot.

"Seconds before the shooting commenced, the Wizard's remote control machine forced the Governor's limousine to slow unexpectedly. By maneuvering the Penguin into the movie theater following the assassination, they arranged for him to be apprehended by Shivel himself in front of the press, thereby cementing the public's trust in the movie mogul."

Vale turned from the television set and cocked her eyebrow at the three men. "Still think anyone will believe this ingenious suicide story of yours?"

Otold rubbed his chin. "I must go to the courthouse. I can convince the public of my innocence. I chust need some airtime."

"I think at this juncture," said the Wizard, "we should be considering our escape route."

"Nein! We must not panic. Ze lady still possesses some items we will require. She vas taking photos of you." He pointed to the Wizard. "Also, she once confided she keeps a red diary on her person. Mention of my fascination with her this diary probably contains. Ze authorities will recover it and read about her vile velationship with the snake Klintody, but only after the offending references to myself have been removed."

Frenchy jerked Vicki's purse and camera down her arm. He easily blocked a wild punch from her, before yanking the two items from her grasp and throwing them on the bed.

"Restrain her," said the Wizard.

"With pleasure," said Frenchy, grabbing Vicki by the arm. For his trouble, he received an elbow in the face from Vicki.

"Perhaps you should just sedate her," suggested Doctor Shivel.

Vicki ducked just before Frenchy's meaty fist could connect with her face. She tried to tug her arm free, but couldn't break loose of the behemoth's grip. He angrily flung her across the room. Her head hit a bedpost and she fell hard to the floor. Doctor Shivel regarded her still form with a mixture of contempt and regret.

"Go start the car," he instructed Frenchy. "Zis will only take a few minutes." Frenchy obediently exited while Shivel rummaged through a bag of pills.

(Bat Spin)

Jimmy and Lois were busy giving directions to a taxi driver who already knew the way. The taxi pulled up in front of the What a Way to Go-Go, dual burning torches flanking its entranceway.

"That's what reminded me," Lois said. "Remember the doorman here?"

"Wow," said Jimmy. "The same grim expression as the ugly puss in this photo of the trio. I was telling Robin about this place, and he said the doorman here once made him sit out in the Batmobile on account of being underage."

"Uh-oh. There's a different doorman on duty tonight," Lois said. "Driver, circle around the club, would you?"

As the taxi pulled up behind the building, they spotted a large figure backing up a car.

"That's him. Driver, pull over here."

"He must be leaving," Jimmy said. "He isn't wearing the organ grinder monkey outfit."

(Bat Spin)

Upstairs, Otold Shivel inspected the handful of colorful pills in the palm of his hand. The Wizard, reluctant to commit a felony out of costume, had donned his trademark cloak and hood.

Vicki Vale lay motionless on the floor. Although she had not been knocked out, she felt it wiser to play dead for the moment and try to come up with a plan. Her hidden arm flopped around under the bed, looking for a weapon.

"You know, a new way of killing Ruby Jones I now must find. I vas going to use this method when I pay a visit," she heard the former Mister Freeze say. "Now hold Ms. Vicki very still."

Vicki's fingers came across a metal top hat under the bed.


	22. Chapter 22

At the trial, Batman pressed forward with his case.

"Doctor Shivel assumed that his first wife, being a former moll, would not object to his frequent dalliances. He was displeased to find that not only did she object, but she had been receiving guidance on their relationship from none other than her former boss, the Penguin. Incensed she would seek out an unrepentant villain for marital advice, Shivel vowed to ruin Cobblepot - and do so in a way that did not threaten his newfound stardom. Before the year was out, Otold was a widower and engaged to an exotic TV broadcaster - none other than the witness currently under oath.

"Otold and Rosemarie were wed right after his special effects work won a Felix award. No sooner had the newlyweds become famous than Shivel's eye began to wander again. He became infatuated with reporter Vicki Vale, and, this time, his spouse was flirting as well. A kind, mild-mannered reporter was seldom far from her thoughts. Without any reciprocation on Clark Kent's part, she pictured a romance on the horizon. Otold got his mistress and you had his blessing to pick a paramour of your own. Was that the nuptial arrangement, Ms. Shivel?"

"Stop! You've got it all wrong!" the woman protested, wishing dearly she had a stiff drink.

"Except neither fling quite worked out, did it? The girl reporter accepted a small film role from your spouse, but nothing further. And news stories started emanating from Mister Kent's typewriter that no longer made him look so devoted. Yet, for a time, defying all logic, you loved him…didn't you?"

"Yes!" Rosemarie sobbed. "I couldn't help it. He was just so danged . . . wholesome. Oh, boo hoo, boo hoo!"

Batman walked towards the jury, leaving Rosemarie to her bitter tears.

He shook a finger at the witness. "Let this be a lesson. The next time you look with desire at someone other than your spouse, stop and ask yourself, 'Do I really want to spend the rest of my life in prison?'

He came to a stop in front of the TV camera. "This unholy abomination we call 'swinging' is ruining our nation. I can only feel outrage when I think of lawfully wedded couples taking a blasé view of their solemn vows. I call upon all of you at home to forsake your spouse-swapping orgies. Leave behind your hot tubs; trade them in for a wholesome regimen of calisthenics."

The members of the jury looked at each other, then nodded in solemn agreement.

"Swingers and others of their spouse-swapping ilk are taking us down a dangerous path…a path that leads to the downfall of society. It's up to each one of us to stop this perversion in its tracks."

Batman stared straight into the camera. "It's up to you."

Leaving the viewing audience with a heavy burden to consider, Batman stalked from the courtroom.

As one, an entire nation rose to its feet and applauded.

In living rooms across America, whole families clapped and cheered. Batman had, without a doubt, won his case – assuming there was a provision for offering the jury a third option beyond 'guilty' and 'not guilty.'

Lucky Pierre stood. "Your Honor, I think I speak for everyone when I say there's no need to hear anything further."

Judge Rang stopped clapping long enough to glance at the standing ovation coming from the jury box. "Quite agreed. Case dismissed!"

Oswald Cobblepot blinked repeatedly, not quite ready to believe he wasn't emerging from some wildly fanciful dream. Lucky Pierre engulfed him in a celebratory bear hug. The two wiped away tears of happiness. (Coincidentally, footage of their hug would be broadcast the next day – at the same time Cobblepot was announcing his resumption of the name "Penguin" and his ambition to blast the moon from the sky.)

(Bat Spin)

Frenchy parked the doctor's car and exited the vehicle. He was startled by the appearance of a yellow cab that pulled up next to him. Out of it jumped an angry young man.

"Hold on, you," Jimmy snarled. "You promised us we could get a table without having to wait if we got here before eight. What time is it now?"

Frenchy automatically looked to check his watch, but halted in mid-motion. "Hey, pal, I didn't talk to you. I'm not even working tonight."

"You've had a lot of time off," said Lois from the other side of the taxi. "You were off-duty the night Clark Kent died, weren't you?"

Frenchy did a double-take. "How'd you know…?"

He glanced suspiciously back at Jimmy, who yanked on Frenchy's outstretched arm and slammed the taxi door on his hand.

"What was that poison Mister Kent drank?" he demanded, maintaining pressure on the door.

Frenchy responded by smacking Jimmy in the face with his left hand. The young man fell to the ground, allowing Frenchy to remove his hand from the door. He grabbed for the shoulder holster attached to his left armpit, but was forced to do so awkwardly, with his undamaged left hand. He was just getting a grip on it when Lois winged a pocket mirror off the side of his head. Jimmy grabbed Frenchy's good hand and pulled it way from the holster.

(Bat Spin)

Inside the building, the Wizard hovered over Vicki for a moment, then reached for her face. Yanking the metal top hat from beneath the bed, Vicki opened her eyes and drew her arm back. Seeing her aim for his teeth, the Wizard moved his arms to block the blow. The newsgirl switched tactics and bashed him on the kneecap.

BUNNG!

"Gaah! Shoot her!" yelled the Wizard.

"Frenchy has ze gun. I shall return." Shivel hurriedly left the Wizard to fend for himself.

The evil doctor arrived in the parking lot to find Frenchy with Jimmy Olsen. At first glance, he thought they were dancing around the parking lot holding hands. Then Lois Lane jumped on the henchman's back and started pulling tufts of his hair out, and he realized a fight was taking place.

Lois saw the befuddled doctor watching. "Quick, Jimmy, get Doctor Shivel's picture!"

Shivel fled for the nearest door.

"Evffryone, fall back!" he shouted as loud as he could. "Reassemble at Hideout B! Hideout B!" He disappeared through a door before Olsen was able to record photographic record of his presence.

Shivel found himself plunging through the interior of the dance club. A woman recognized him from the day's news and screamed. Heads turned in his direction. Shivel madly made his way for the entrance. He passed Barry Brown, who had just entered the club with his latest floozy in tow.

"Doctor Shivel!" Getting no response from the fleeing genius, Brown pulled out his tape recorder and gave chase. He caught up with the sprinting filmmaker in the parking lot. Thrusting out a microphone, he said, "Doctor Shivel, you look busy right now, but you've always made time for our listeners before."

Shivel tried to sound delighted, but kept running. "Oh, Barry! How good…to see you." He gave a pained smile.

"Doctor," Barry said with concern, "Batman has had your wife arrested and requested a warrant for your arrest. He maintains that you are the mastermind behind the murders of Governor Klintody and Clark Kent. How do you respond?"

"Well, you see…horrible lies ze Batman has resorted to. Effryone knows how bitter ze long underwear buffoons are over my film."

He increased his pace, but Brown had no difficulty keeping up. "Who do you think killed Governor Klintody?"

"Actually, the more I think…about this, the more I am convinced zis may have been…a suicide. The person Ms. Vicki Vale was really having an affair with…was Governor Klintody himself. I believe this…dereliction of duties haunted the man until he made ze decision…to end it all."

"Doctor, some Gothamites might be skeptical of these charges, and suspicious about their timing."

The sound of their footsteps rapidly slapping the pavement underscored Brown's point.

Gasping for breath, Shivel replied, "Those doubters…must…go see Chilled…Scientist for an…honest look at Gotham City Law Enforcement. It plays…daily at 1:30, 3:00…"

Brown interrupted him. "Okay, thank you for your time, doctor. Best of luck."

Like a starving baby bird, Shivel leaned after the departing reporter. "Trust me! I'm a filmmaker!"

(Bat Spin)

At the rear of the What a Way to Go-Go, Frenchy pulled Lois off his back and flung her at Jimmy. The reporting duo landed on the pavement with a thud. Frenchy was back behind the wheel of his car. His hood flapping, the Wizard came running from the back entrance and joined Frenchy in the vehicle. The reporters had to move quickly to avoid being run over. The villains' car screeched down the alley and out of sight.

Frenchy looked back over his shoulder. "Aww, cripes! I left all of the Penguin's weaponry hidden under my bed."

"No kidding," the Wizard grumbled.

(Bat Spin)

Batgirl sat in the silence of Commissioner Gordon's office, feeling terribly left out of the action. She was grateful to see the Hotline light up.

Beep . . . beep . . . beep

She lifted the clear plastic cover and yanked up the red receiver. "Batgirl here."

"Batgirl," came Robin's voice above the hum of the Batmobile. "The Bat-Interview-Detector just picked up Otold Shivel headed east down Oak Avenue towards Weekly Square."

"Chief O'Hara reported someone resembling Moe the henchman driving in a westerly direction towards Weekly Square," Batgirl reported.

"They're reassembling one final time before splitting up for good," Batman theorized from the driver's seat.

"Let's go!" said Robin.

"I'll be on Bowie Street in moments. Batgirl out."

(Bat Spin)

Leaving their vehicles at opposite ends of Weekly Square, the heroic trio rendezvoused soon thereafter.

"I don't see anyone…suspicious or otherwise," Batgirl said, turning in a slow circle.

"It is awful late," said Robin, "almost 10:30." Although he didn't want to admit it, the complete silence (save the sound of their own voices) made him nervous.

Otold Shivel peeked over the abutment bordering the leafy thicket. Licking his lips, he raised a bullhorn to his mouth.

"Places, everyone! Unt…action!"

A gunshot shattered the peacefulness. A metal railing behind Batgirl shot off sparks as the bullet ricocheted off of it.

"There's a sniper on the roof of the GothCyt building! Everyone down!" Batman ordered.

No sooner had the trio crouched down when another gunshot sounded from above. The brick pavement between them spat up dust as the bullet impacted.

"There are two shooters on the roof!" said Robin.

Batgirl pointed upwards. "No, the second shot came from the roof of the STD building!"

"We're completely exposed…out here," said Batman, another gun blast interrupting him. "Quickly, to the Batmobile!"

The three sprinted for the magnificent, sleek vehicle which sat two hundred yards away. A flash of gunfire now erupted from between the bushes of the leafy thicket. The heroes dropped flat, rolling quickly for the nearest curb.

"They're firing from the exact same positions as the assassination!" said Batgirl. "They know it'll be impossible to distinguish forensics evidence from tonight's shooting versus the Governor's assassination."

On the roof of the GothCyt Building, Moe took careful aim, getting a bead on Batgirl's sprawled form. He slowly pulled the trigger. Batgirl heard the bullet make a sharp thud as it hit the sod.

"Split up – find cover," ordered Batman.

They ran off just in time, a shot from the leafy thicket rocketing between them. Batman spotted a police officer emerging from an alley, no doubt coming to check on the racket.

"Officer!" Batman called out. "Sniper – in the leafy thicket!"

In response, the patrolman pulled his sidearm and aimed the weapon straight at Batman. The Caped Crusader had time to utter, "What in blazes…?" before the man in the uniform blasted away at the Dark Knight. Batman reversed course and raced back across Weekly Square, shots whizzing past from all directions.

Ahead he saw a small Salvation Army Marching Band round a corner. They were so engrossed in their performance of _Bringing in the Sheaves_ that they couldn't hear the shots. Batman raced ahead, waving his arms to get their attention.

Without warning, the trumpet player turned and fired at him with a small Luger. The Caped Crusader was fortunate to be near a metal refuse bin, which he dove for. Batman looked to the skies.

He cried out in great frustration. "Is anyone in Gotham City _not_ part of this conspiracy?"

"I'm not." A little girl waved from a fourth floor apartment window.

Regretting his sweeping condemnation, Batman waved back. "What is your name, child?"

"Becky."

"It is in your name that I continue to fight this day, little Becky. Thank you for restoring my faith in our city."

"You're welcome."

"Take cover now. We wouldn't want a wayward bullet to shatter your ulna."

High on the rooftop of the STD building, Frenchy watched the trio of tiny figures racing around the city square. He waited patiently for one to hold still.

Shivel cackled. "Hear the gunshots, Batman!" he called out over the bullhorn. "They are ze chilling sound of your doom! Cherish them! Each one is proof you are not yet dead!"

Batgirl found herself crouching behind a gate not far from Robin. "We can't do anything about the snipers on the roof," she said, "but if I can reach the thicket on my cycle, we can take care of one problem."

"Don't try it!" Robin said worriedly. "It's suicide!"

Not waiting around to argue, she dashed for the Batgirlcycle sitting in the middle of the square. Robin hurled his Batarang in no specific direction to draw attention. Batgirl reached her motorcycle and leaped onto it. Frenchy took careful bead on the Dominoed Daredoll as she kickstarted the cycle.

Before he could get the shot off, two hands seized his ankles and sent him pitching forward. The rifle went tumbling end-over-end as its owner fell face first over the edge of the roof. He grabbed onto the ledge before his torso slid off into the abyss. Frenchy yanked his ankles free and kicked back in a mule-like maneuver. He heard two grunts as his assailants went sprawling. Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen pulled themselves up to face the assassin.

"So, my two little snoops again," he said.

"You didn't think you'd lose us that easy, did you? Our taxi's just as fast as your car" said Jimmy.

Instead of replying, Frenchy reached into his jacket and pulled out his revolver.


	23. Chapter 23

_Many thanks to those of you who stuck with this tale over the last year! And apologies for the lengthy delays – raising an infant proved more time-consuming that I anticipated. There's one final update to the images page for this conclusion _

_A few final notes: _

_"We must show our youngsters that everyone has to keep fit!" So said President Kennedy to Superman, in a story that was scheduled for late 1963 (Superman #168). Right before the issue went to press, the story was pulled from publication and the original artwork mysteriously lost. _

_Henry Corden (William Johnson in the 1952 Superman episode, Drums of Death) was also the voice of Fred Flintstone, but there were other Johnsons involved in the JFK assasination: _

_A) President Lyndon Johnson, who in the service of his corporate overlords, covered up the assassination. His role was shockingly documented in the Oliver Stone film _JFK

_B) One of the three tramps from the grassy knoll. Experts are almost certain this Johnson fired the shots that killed JFK _

_And now, the big finale…_

Batgirl sped towards the leafy thicket, her cycle swerving to avoid the gunfire spitting at her. On the roof of the GothCyt, Moe also fired a shot down at the speeding vehicle.

From his position in the thicket, the Wizard concluded Batgirl would try to breach the shrubbery far to one side of him or the other. Despite all the course changes, however, the suicidal daredoll was still coming in straight at him.

The Wizard blinked in disbelief, and then fired two shots straight ahead. Anticipating the barrage, the girl veered off to the right, turf flying off her back wheel. Then, for the briefest moment, she passed beneath his view as she hit the bottom of the embankment. The Batgirlcycle charged up the embankment as if shot from a cannon and sailed over the Wizard. He fumbled with his eye slits, trying to keep sight of the airborne intruder.

A hurtling, purple leg kicked the rifle from his hands, while a knee smashed into his chest, sending him reeling backwards. The Wizard grabbed desperately at tree limbs as he backpedaled. He managed to wrap his grip around two just as he was about to land on his back.

Batgirl saw the cloaked villain using the tree growth to tug himself upright. She leaped in, her leg lashing upward.

1! 2! 3! times she snapped his head back with kicks to the chin that flashed so quickly he barely saw them. After the third, he saw only stars.

As he hit the ground, the Batgirlcycle floated slowly down on the parachutes Batgirl had activated at the apex of the cycle's leap.

Jimmy and Lois stood out on the roof of the STD building, looking into the barrel of Frenchy's revolver.

"Looks like I get the honor of exterminating the entire Daily Planet newsroom," he chuckled.

Lois didn't bat an eye. "Why kill Laura Lime? Was she in on this?"

"Nah, that was the Wizard's doing. I told him I'd left something that'd identify me back at the apartment, but I really just went back to grab Kent's traveler's checks. Anyway, that dumb broad announced she was going to chase me by elevator while she was standing right next to the phone receiver. The Wizard was on the other end of the line, just sitting there at his remote control machine. He 'got' to the elevator before she did."

"You know, the way you killed Clark made no sense. Was there some urgency to his death on the heels of the Ruby interview?"

Frenchy waved dismissively. "Not really. The Shivels had decided to kill him long before that. The Wizard just missed finishing him last week by remote-controlling Kent's car crash."

"Then why attempt murder – let alone staging a suicide – right when there were potential witnesses sitting in the very next room?"

"Where's the challenge in killing him when he's alone? That would have been so…pedestrian." Frenchy puffed out his chest. "You are looking at the Mozart of Murderers. I intentionally waited for visitors I'd have to sneak past – just to make things interesting. I'm not so sure Barry Brown would have cared, either way. He agreed to tell Shivel when he'd made contact with Kent that evening – Shivel promised some exclusive interviews on his plans."

"No remorse at all, huh?" Jimmy said bitterly.

Frenchy laughed. "What do you think? Ya know, I emptied half of that green stuff down Kent's throat before he even woke up. He put up a really feeble fight about downing the remainder - pretty disappointing. At least you two had a little guts . . . and, hey, let's see what color they are."

He pulled the trigger.

BAM!

Despite the Wizard's downfall, Batman and Robin were still racing around in circles. They continued to be fired on by the trumpet player and the policeman, as well as the sniper on the GothCyt roof.

Moe, for his part, was happy to get the practice shooting at moving targets. He squeezed off another shot, misjudging Robin's route slightly and missing by inches.

Doctor Shivel whirled as he heard a rustling in the thicket behind him. Barry Brown popped out of the foliage, tape recorder in hand.

"Doctor, I know I ended our interview earlier, but that was before I knew there'd be shooting. I wonder if we could just pick up where we left off?"

"Ach du lieber!" Otold exclaimed. "No time I haff for you!"

Brown hit pause on his recorder. "Exclusive interviews and complete access was the deal."

"Oh! Vhy don't you run to police and tell them what you did to get it?" Shivel hissed.

Otold was encouraged by the continuation of gunfire coming from the rooftops. He looked over the abutment, but was horrified to see Moe jerk backwards to the sound of a rifle report, clutching his shoulder in pain. As Moe swayed unsteadily, his rifle teetered for on the edge of the roof's ledge, before toppling forward to fall six stories. Just as the rifle was shattering against the pavement far below, Moe's face was hitting the concrete roof's surface.

"What was that?" Robin asked, whirling at the noise.

"It is ze chilling sound of your doom!" Otold bellowed through the megaphone.

Shots rang down on the street from above. The phony trumpet player fled as windows shattered around him. Meanwhile, the false policeman jammed another clip into his sidearm. He dropped to one knee, aimed, and fired at Robin.

Batman tossed his sidekick the Batshield. It assembled easily within seconds, and provided full-proof cover for Robin. The Boy Wonder discovered he could mostly ignore the policeman's shots and charge straight at him.

The frantic trumpet player unwittingly ran right past Batman's position. A right hook brought the gunman to an abrupt stop. WHAP!

Batman cocked his fist, but instinctively hesitated. Reassured that the Salvation Army uniform was stolen, the Caped Crusader let his fist descend like a hammer. POW!

The horn player collapsed like the slimy rat he was.

Robin rammed the phony cop up into a wall. WHACK!

He repeated this motion with the Batshield - BAM! SLAM! - until his foe dropped unconscious to the ground.

Shivel swatted at the air and turned back to Brown. "Oh, fine! Here is your exclusive - show me a way out."

The selfish pair took off running down the street. Batgirl spotted them as she dragged the Bat-cuffed Wizard from the thicket. Dropping her prisoner, she took off in pursuit. The pair had already had more than a bloc's lead on her. Batgirl raced down the street as fast as her boots would take her.

Robin studied the unconscious features of the fake policeman. "Who is he?"

"His name is William Johnson," said a voice from behind.

Lois had just strolled out of the STD building, Frenchy's rifle in her hand. "He's a master of disguise and hypnotism. He enjoyed a successful racket in Haiti for a number of years."

"He looks really familiar," said Jimmy, faintly troubled.

"He should," said Batman. "He's the 'LeX' who spun that tale about the cereal/bureaucracy connection."

"You mean he just made all that stuff up out of thin air?" asked Jimmy, scratching his head. "Then I guess Kellogg's doesn't really have an army of bloodthirsty mercenaries."

"No, you're thinking of Nabisco" Batman said.

Robin pointed at the gun. "Ms. Lane, you were the one shot Moe in the shoulder?"

"She sure was!" said Jimmy. "There was no way we could have used Frenchy's pistol."

"Jimmy jammed his camera rod down the end of the revolver while he was struggling with Frenchy in the parking lot. When Frenchy tried using it on us just now, it blew up in his hand."

"Gosh, I guess those guys will be needing an ambulance up there," Jimmy suddenly remembered.

(Bat Spin)

"This is Barry Brown, on the run with wanted fugitive, Otold Shivel. We're currently at the Axis Chemical Factory. Otold, why exactly are we here?"

"Ve are here because some fool of a reporter suggested we take this street."

"What do you think will happen if you're caught?"

"I know my way around large industrial plants, zo hopefully we vill lose our pursuit."

"That sounds like footsteps approaching. Might that be Batgirl?"

"Quiet, she might hear you! Qvickly, in here!"

CL-LANG!

"Doctor, was that the sound of the door locking from the outside?"

Batgirl pressed the 'stop' button on the tape recorder.

"That's the last discernible dialogue. After that, the steam and hydraulic noises drown out their voices."

The victorious crimefighters were gathered in the Commissioner's office. The police had recovered Cobblepot's belongings from Frenchy's apartment, and the Penguin was now insisting on hanging around.

Batman gestured towards a man in a white medical coat. "Doctor Wow, have you been able to piece together what happened after they entered that room?"

The doctor removed his glasses to clean them. "As best I can determine, Brown pulled every last handle in there, except the one that would have opened the door. They were in a chamber designed to test how impervious goutweed is to various chemicals. Mister Shivel got the worst of it. Whereas Brown would just run away, Shivel would take it upon himself to try and stop the spray at its source."

"Is he going to survive?" Vicki Vale asked.

"After having exposed themselves to every chemical possible, they finished with Brown inadvertently triggering a scalding steam spray. It will be a little while before Shivel's burns heal, but the chances are good for some kind of recovery."

"Serves him right," said the Penguin. "After the heinous fraud he's perpetrated, he's getting off easy."

"Doctor, considering his previous freezing physiology, how do you think his immune system will respond to those chemicals?" Batman asked.

"I really can't say. We'll just have to wait and see."

"What about Barry Brown?" asked Robin.

"Ah," said Doctor Wow, holding up a finger. "He came out in much better condition. "We don't understand too much about the long-term impact for him, but he was well enough to be released from the emergency room. He's refused to return for further tests, though."

"Even though we caught the killers, this is all so sad," said Batgirl. "I'm afraid Harvey Dent may have argued his last case in a courtroom."

"Don't be too sure," said the Commissioner. "Lieutenant Governor Condelee was severely wounded during the assassination, but managed to pull through. It turns out Dent was a roommate of his in college, and Condelee has no interest in replacing him District Attorney. So you had all best be prepared to work with Dent again, or forget about convicting any of your foes."

The Penguin sneered. "The stench of corruption in these halls never falters. Each one of you owes me an apology."

Robin ignored him. "It's too bad we can't interview Doctor Shivel; a lot of this still doesn't make sense."

"Right," said Batgirl. "For starters, since there was a conspiracy to frame Cobblepot, why trot out Chitt and LeX with conspiracy stories? What did they gain by killing Chitt?"

"I think I can answer that," said Chief O'Hara. "As near as I can figure, they wanted to pin the whole kit 'n caboodle on Oswald here, but they also had a back-up plan. Once we started asking around about this vagrant trio, they knew their lone Cobblepot story was out the window. So they started offering up wilder and wilder schemes for us to sort through. Killing Chitt got everybody thinkin' that his story must be the real stuff."

"Correct," said Batman. "Also, since Chitt's statements were influenced by Johnson's hypnotism, they had to deal with the likelihood that Chitt's story would remember the truth over time."

Commissioner Gordon nodded. "Johnson was also the one who brought Ruby Jones into the plot. Johnson and Rutherford Jones belonged to the same fraternal order of shady hypnotists. When Jones died in prison of natural causes, Johnson saw his chance to move in on Jones' widow under the pretense of bearing sad news."

Robin balled his fist. "Why, that no-good fink!"

"He told her that her husband had been rubbed out by the Penguin. Over the coming days, he fed her more and more information about opportunities for extracting revenge on Mister Cobblepot. Once Oswald was identified as the Governor's killer, Johnson made her feel guilty for not having killed him sooner."

"Misled or not, she'll face the gallows for her crime, I trust," said the Penguin, "and the name is 'Penguin,' if you please. Penguin - Bold Buccaneer of Banditry!"

"So Johnson played the role of LeX, Hermindra, the fake policeman, and Raoul? Busy guy," said Vicki.

Batman corrected her. "No, _Frenchy_ was 'Raoul,' a fictitious character created so we would waste time looking for him."

"It still seems like a whole lot of trouble to go through," said Robin. "If you've got a remote control machine, you can just cause any number of car crashes."

"They first tried to kill Mister Klintody by forcing his plane to crash," explained Batman, "but, somehow, the plane pulled out of its tailspin, as if caught in mid-air by a superhuman deity, and landed gently on the ground."

"Hwah, hwah, hwah," said the Penguin. "The nincompoops would've spent a fraction of the cost if they'd simply hired me. I would have done the deed cheerfully in exchange for my old top hat and umbrella."

"Corky the dog was recovered alive and well from the Shivels' Metropolis condominium," said Commissioner Gordon. "After she was confronted with the evidence of her involvement, Rosemarie Shivel confessed to everything: their warped romantic arrangement, its fatal consequences for Mister Kent…and, very nearly, for Ms. Vale."

"The Shivels certainly let their infatuations get the better of them. Have you ever thought about asking Vicki out on a date, Batman?" Robin whispered.

Batman shielded his mouth with his glove. "A word of advice, chum. Women with repeating initials can only spell trouble."

(Bat Spin)

It was a beautiful, cloudless day, as if nature were compensating for the sadness of the occasion. Batman stood at a lectern situated ten feet in front of a gleaming, gold-colored coffin. He gazed at the faces of the small group that had turned out.

He shuffled his notes and cleared his throat. "I was asked to come here today to say a few words about our fallen comrade, Clark Kent. Lois Lane wanted to be here to give the eulogy, but her editor ordered her and Jimmy Olson to cover Governor Klintody's funeral on the other side of town. Frankly, any editor worth his salt would have made the same decision.

"I had the pleasure of meeting Clark Kent on several occasions. He was polite, studious, and hard-working. He was a good man, a great man. Well, that's not really true, but he was a _good_ man. Although in no way remarkable, he was a model citizen and always did as he was instructed.

"Ms. Lane told me that Kent had the reputation of fleeing at the first sign of danger – even if the danger was in another city. Apparently, the joke around The Daily Planet offices was no threat was far enough away for Clark Kent's taste."

A murmur of gentle chuckles drifted up from the mourners.

"Look! Up in the sky!" someone yelled.

"It's a bird!" cried another, pointing upward.

"It's a plane!"

Everyone perked up at the thought of a plane going by, and they all paused to look upward.

Robin whispered to Batman, "Boy, whoever thought that was a bird must be pretty embarrassed."

"Indeed," Batman said. "The hump at the front of the fuselage plainly identifies it as a Boeing 747."

Every head slowly craned from left to right as the plane passed and disappeared from sight.

Batman shook his head, trying to recall the topic of his speech. "Now, where was I? Oh, yes, Kent!"

He gestured at the open casket. "Clark requested he be buried wearing his spectacles. They represent his tireless resolve to magnify the truth."

"Stop the funeral!"

Batman looked up and saw Lois and Jimmy running towards the gravesite.

"Clark isn't dead!" Lois said, gasping for breath as she finally reached Batman's side.

Confused, Batman glanced down at the coffin.

"It wasn't Mister Kent!" said Jimmy. "It was another guy! See, Mister Kent once ran across this fellow named Boulder, and saw the guy was the spitting image of him."

Lois chimed in. "Lately, when he felt he was being handed useless fluff stories, Clark would hire this fellow to go stand in for him at the event. He always somehow seemed to find out enough about what happened to write the stories, even if he wasn't within miles of the event.

"Once he was granted the Ruby exclusive, Clark realized he'd stumbled into the middle of a hot story. So he flew the look-alike out here, purely to misdirect attention, so he could move about without being mobbed. Also, he was worried Perry White would reassign him to something frivolous any second."

"So it was Boulder who got poisoned in the hotel room?" asked Robin.

"Right!" said Jimmy. "Laura Lime was _Boulder's_ fiancée. She'd been instructed to play along with the charade. Mister Kent didn't even know she was in Gotham City until she'd already taken that fall down the elevator shaft."

"How did you discover all this?" Batman asked.

The phone in the Batmobile started beeping.

"From Clark himself," answered Lois. "That's probably him, calling from the Commissioner's office, right now."

The Dynamic Duo exchanged a perplexed look, then Batman moved to answer the phone.

"Hello?' Batman said. "Yes…hello, Clark. It's good to hear from you."

Jimmy sidled over next to Lois. "Gosh, that sure is a strange story. Do you believe it, Miss Lane?"

Lois threw up her hands. "Ohhh, who knows? The master of weird excuses has struck again. I'm beginning to think Clark's whole purpose in life is to miss breaking stories and come up with nonsensical tales to explain his absence."

"He's tough to figure sometimes, huh?"

"He's a chicken . . . but he's our chick– Jimmy, where are you going?"

Batman watched in puzzlement as Olson ran up and snapped several pictures of him holding the phone.

Jimmy returned to Lois, smiling as he checked his viewfinder.

"Wow! Clark talking to Batman! And I got it on film!"

"Yes. What's that?" Batman asked the voice at the other end. He placed the phone against his chest. "Ms. Lane, Clark says to tell you the boxing exhibition was for real, but it was being kept secret as a favor to Governor Klintody. The Governor asked Clark to participate to help promote his youth physical education program."

Jimmy patted Lois on the shoulder. "I knew you'd never cut any secret deals against Mister Kent! I wonder what Barry Brown has to say about that now?"

(Bat Spin)

On the 747 that had just passed over the funeral, a form sat hidden under a shawl at the back of the plane.

A stewardess approached with a plate. "Something to eat, sir?"

"Thank you. Leave it."

Seconds after she left, Barry Brown's face peered out from the shawl. Satisfied he was alone, he regarded the scrumptious meal in front of him. Without warning, his mouth secreted a glob of thick, dark mucous. It landed on the food and dissolved it within seconds. Brown lapped the resulting pasty mess up like a dog. His hunger sated, Brown glared with bitterness out the window.

"You did this to nee, Batnan! I'll hind a way to nake you pay!"

He would need a new name; something befitting his horrible state. He decided he liked the sound of "Acid Tongue." Plus, he could pronounce it.

Feeling nature call, he rose and shoved his way past the stewardess in the aisle. "Excuse nee."

After squeezing into the lavatory, Brown locked the door. He unzipped his fly and went about dispensing his foul business. Outside, the stewardess gasped as the smoke detectors in the back of the plane all began squealing.

**THE END…?**


End file.
